The Legacy Of Terabithia
by Wordsmith
Summary: Summer, 2007. 10-year-old Leslie Aarons, daughter of the famous writer Jess Aarons, is sent to Lark Creek to stay with her grandparents while her parents decide if they're going to divorce. Here, Leslie will finally understand her father's true legacy...
1. Chapter 1

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction based on the book Bridge To Terabithia by Katherine Paterson. I am not affiliated with Katherine Paterson, her publisher, the Walt Disney company, Walden Media, or David Paterson. The original characters, settings, and story belong to Katherine Paterson._

Chapter One: Return To Lark Creek

_Ba-room, ba-room, ba-room, baripity, baripity, baripity, baripity…_

The sound of her grandfather's old pickup truck woke Leslie Aarons from a thin, dreamless sleep. She was surprised that she'd slept at all. There was something about other people's beds that prevented her from sleeping in them. But this was her father's old bed, in her father's old room. As a boy, he had to share the room with his younger sisters – Leslie's Aunt May Belle and Aunt Joyce. Their bed used to be in the opposite corner of the room, but Grandma and Grandpa took it out long ago to make a guest room with one bed. They did the same thing with the second bed in the room that Aunt Brenda and Aunt Ellie – her father's older sisters - used to share. Very convenient for when the grandchildren came to visit. They even had extra folding beds that could be moved into a room.

As a growing boy, it must have been hard for her father, Leslie thought, having to share a bedroom with two little girls. But his parents had five kids to feed and little money - he didn't have a choice. Leslie's parents had only one kid and plenty of money. Sometimes she felt lucky having her parents all to herself. Sometimes she longed for a brother or sister so badly it made her ache inside. Being an only child wasn't easy.

Being the only child of Jess Aarons was harder.

Leslie's father was a famous writer. He wrote and illustrated children's books. That meant that he wrote the stories and drew the pictures, too. He was a talented artist. When he wasn't drawing pictures for his books, he painted canvases. His oil paintings were almost always landscapes and seascapes. He loved painting scenes of forests, mountains, lakes, and oceans. None of Jess Aarons' fans ever saw his paintings. He kept them to himself or gave them to relatives and friends.

One painting Leslie knew Dad would never give away. It hung on the wall in his study. The painting was a landscape scene that depicted a boy and girl in crowns and robes looking out at what appeared to be a vast kingdom surrounded by a forest and mountains. A great and beautiful castle stood in the distance, protected by a moat. There were people moving about, and some strange creatures were watching them. A giant was hiding in the forest. Above it all, the sun shone brightly in the blazing blue sky.

The young King and Queen held hands and smiled as they surveyed their kingdom. They were ready to defend it if necessary - they each wore sheathed swords. The young King bore a striking resemblance to the artist, who signed his name in the lower right hand corner, underneath the title:

_Terabithia  
Jess Aarons  
1990_

Terabithia. Leslie was five years old when she first read that word on the painting. She asked Dad what it meant, and he said "A great and secret kingdom." He didn't say anything more. It was almost like he didn't want to talk about it. Of course, she kept prodding him for details. He finally told her about Leslie Burke, the girl he named her after.

When Dad was a boy, Leslie Burke was his best friend. It was she who created Terabithia, their great and secret kingdom in the woods. It was she who took a poor, dumb farm boy out of the cow pasture and made him a king. They were more than just best friends. They were soul mates. Like yin and yang, they completed each other. They were two different halves that made each other whole.

And then, suddenly, Leslie Burke was gone, killed in a tragic accident.

And Jess Aarons would never be the same.

There was so much more Leslie wanted to know about Leslie Burke, but it was such a painful subject to her father that she was loath to prod him for more information. Besides, she already knew enough to understand why Dad named her after Leslie Burke. If Dad wanted to tell her more, he would.

He did want to tell her more. He wanted to tell the world. The first time he told the story was in _The Secret Kingdom_, his first picture book to reach number one on the New York Times list of best selling children's books. It stayed at number one for twenty-six weeks. Leslie was only four years old then.

In _The Secret Kingdom_, during a boring summer vacation, a lonely boy and girl meet, become friends, and discover a secret kingdom in the woods behind their homes. They are the King and Queen that the people of the kingdom have been waiting for. They rule with kindness and bravely defend their land from monsters and conquerors. At the end of the summer, the boy and girl don't want to leave their kingdom, but they know that they have to go back to school, and they won't have much time for it. The kingdom would still be there for them - no one can ruin it because, as Dad wrote:

_You can't even see it if you don't have magic inside you, and the magic starts to dry up when you're a big kid. Not because it has to, but because you want it to. It's the saddest part of growing up. And by the time you are grown up, the magic is no more than a pinch of dust under your little toenail. To someone without magic inside him, the Secret Kingdom looks just like a plain old clearing in the forest. He would never know of the great battles, the giants and trolls, the wizards and witches, and the valiant King and Queen who ruled it all._

_The secret is to hold onto the magic as long as you can._

_After all, even Kings and Queens must grow up._

Even though Dad based _The Secret Kingdom_ and its characters on himself and Leslie Burke, the story was quite different. The boy and girl were called David and Lisa, the kingdom was not called Terabithia, and the story had a happy ending. The book got great reviews. One critic called it "a lyrical ode to the magic of childhood and the power of imagination," while another said that it was "a beautifully written and magnificently illustrated story that should be savored by adults as well as children."

Still, Dad wanted to tell the whole, true story, and when Leslie was six years old, during one of their "Daddy Daughter Days" when Dad would take a break from his writing and drawing to spend the whole day with her, he told her that his new book, which he had almost finished writing, was the true story of himself and Leslie Burke. It was called _Bridge To Terabithia_. Dad wanted to know what she thought about it. When the book was published, everyone would know whom Leslie Aarons was named after.

At first, Leslie thought it was great. Then Dad read it to her at bedtime over the course of several nights. On the last night, after it was over, Leslie cried so hard she thought she'd never stop. Her poor father! And he had only _hinted_ at what he went through after Leslie Burke died! It was so sad, yet it was the best thing Dad ever wrote. Leslie knew it would be a bestseller, and it was. It won the Newbery Medal, too.

Then, Dad's agent called to tell him that Disney was interested in making a movie of _Bridge To Terabithia_. Dad had to fly from their home in Washington, D.C. to Los Angeles to meet with studio executives. As part of the contract, Dad would write the movie script with a professional screenwriter. Writing the script was easy; dealing with the changes requested by the studio was not. But they got it all done.

Next came the location scouting. Leslie got to go with Dad to New Zealand to see where the movie would be filmed. While that was going on, the cast of actors was being assembled. And there was costuming, special effects, the musical score had to be composed. All the scenes in the script had to be filmed and then edited together. Making a movie was a long and complicated process. The _Bridge To Terabithia_ movie premiered in February, just a couple months before Leslie's 10th birthday. She got to go to the premiere and meet Josh Hutcherson and Annasophia Robb, who played Jess Aarons and Leslie Burke. That was way cool.

What fame did for Leslie Aarons wasn't cool. She never had much luck making friends. When your father is famous, people either assume that you're a spoiled brat and a snob and want nothing to do with you, or they want to suck up to you because of who your father is. It got worse for Leslie after the movie came out. Not only was she hounded for her father's autograph, some kids seemed to think she could arrange for them to meet Josh Hutcherson and Annasophia Robb or get them to sign autographs. Everybody wanted to be friends with Jess Aarons' daughter, but nobody seemed to care about Leslie Aarons.

_They're not my friends - they're phonies, all of 'em_, Leslie thought. _Who needs 'em!_

Leslie's father had his own problems with fame. Ever since _Bridge To Terabithia_ was first published, Dad found himself having to defend his book on all the talk shows. Somehow it had become the most banned and challenged children's book of all time. Some parents didn't like it because it dealt with death and grief. Others didn't like it because of the language. There were some mild swears in the book, but they weren't there to encourage kids to curse. That was just the way people in Dad's hometown of Lark Creek, Virginia, talked.

Some people thought that the part about Dad's music teacher Miss Edmunds inviting him to spend the day with her at an art gallery was really weird and disturbing. On Oprah Winfrey's talk show, Dad explained that things were very different back in the 1970s, when the story took place. Back then, parents would have praised a teacher like Miss Edmunds for being conscientious. Today, they would demand Miss Edmunds be investigated by the police for inappropriate conduct with a student.

What really made some people hate _Bridge To Terabithia_ were the parts about church and religion. Some religious people said that the book portrayed Christianity in a very bad light. Leslie Burke was shown to be a happy, kind, intelligent, compassionate, creative, and moral person despite a total lack of religious faith. Her parents were the same way.

Jess Aarons depicted his family, who were religious, as deeply unhappy, if not dysfunctional. His parents were very close-minded; (if not downright ignorant) his father worried about his only son's interest in drawing and the fact that Jess spent most of his time playing with a girl. Though the Aaronses only went to church once a year for Easter, Jess still hated going. He would tune out the service in his mind while the fire-and-brimstone preacher screamed at the congregation about sin and repentance. When Leslie Burke died, Jess found no comfort in his religious faith. He worried that God would send Leslie to Hell for being a non-believer.

Leslie Aarons knew that her father was just telling the truth about himself and his family. They were very poor, and when you have a big family to take care of and little money, you can't help being unhappy. Grandma favored her daughters – she always yelled at Dad, Grandpa never showed him affection, and Aunt Brenda and Aunt Ellie were always mean to him. Aunt May Belle, Dad's younger sister, was really the only family member he was close to.

Dad did hate going to church, and he stopped going entirely when he grew up. Religion, Leslie thought, was like cauliflower. Some people found it nourishing, while others found that it left a bad taste in their mouths. Hearing religious people rant and rave about how children's book writers like her father and Philip Pullman were trying to "rip God out of our children's hearts" sure left a bad taste in Leslie's mouth.

_Ba-room! Baripity, baripity, baripity…_

Leslie got out of bed and went to the window. The ancient pickup's motor stopped. She saw her grandfather get out of the truck and head inside. Her father had told her that Grandpa always started the truck in the morning and let the motor run idle for a few minutes to exercise it, whether he was going out or not. It sounded silly, but it kept the old truck running all these years. Maybe Grandpa wasn't as dumb as she thought. She didn't know why, though, he would want to keep driving such an old truck when Dad offered to buy him a new one. Dad also offered to buy him and Grandma a new house. They refused both.

"They're proud people, honey," Dad explained. "Proud as peacocks and stubborn as mules."

Leslie went to the mirror, looked at herself, and sighed. Her honey-blonde hair, which barely touched her shoulders, was a mess. Her brown eyes had lost their amber sparkle, and the whites were bloodshot. She felt worse than she looked. Here she was in Lark Creek, no Internet access, only basic cable on Grandma and Grandpa's old console TV, and practically no signal on her cell phone. Not that she had anyone to call.

The worst part of it was that she had no idea how long she was going to be here. It might be the whole summer. Her parents said they needed some time to themselves to work some things out. Did they think she was stupid? When a husband and wife sleep in separate rooms at night and hardly talk to each other during the day, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's going on.

They were going to get a divorce. What they were going to work out was the details.

Leslie didn't want to think about it. Just the thought of the D-word made her sick. Her parents had been together fifteen years! How could they even think of –

Some heavenly scents sneaked in under the door and caught Leslie's nose. Hot eggs, sweet sausage, and… pancakes! Her stomach growled.

"Leslie! Breakfast!" her grandmother called. Leslie ran to the bathroom to wash up.

"Morning dear," Grandma said. Leslie sat down to eat.

"Morning," Grandpa said, and lit his pipe. He had finished eating.

"Morning," Leslie said through a mouthful of pancakes.

"You sleep well?" Grandma asked. Leslie nodded yes.

"Got anything planned?" Grandpa asked. "You could go fishing with me and Joe Henshaw."

"No thanks, Grandpa. I'll think I'll just go exploring. Maybe walk in the woods."

Grandma and Grandpa exchanged an uneasy look.

"You ain't planning on going out where your daddy and the Burke girl…"

"No! I mean… I'm not going there, Grandma. I don't need to see _that place_."

"Good. Best you stay away from there."

Actually, Leslie had already seen Terabithia. When she was six – the year Dad wrote _Bridge To Terabithia_ - and they were visiting Grandma and Grandpa, her father brought her out there. She didn't want to go, but Dad wanted to see Terabithia again, and she was afraid to let him go alone. She knew exactly what happened there. After they'd walked down the path, Dad pointed out the creek bed – and the tree he used to swing from. A small piece of the Enchanted Rope still dangled from one of its branches.

She could see where it had broken off and sent Leslie Burke to her death.

Leslie Aarons never wanted to see Terabithia again. Not any of it.

"That place really bothers your Grandma," said Grandpa. "When the police come and told us they found the Burke girl dead in the creek, we were sure they'd find your daddy along with her. They were pretty tight, those two."

"Your daddy loved that little girl," Grandma added. "He went through hell after she died. I don't think he ever got over Leslie Burke. I wish I'd treated her better. I always wondered what your daddy saw in her. Maybe I'd have seen it myself if I hadn't been so damned blind."

"You have to understand, things were real different when your daddy was a kid," Grandpa explained. "Back then, if a man sees his only son spending all his time drawing pictures and playing with girls, he worries that something might be wrong with the boy. It was stupid, I know that now, but it really bothered me then. It shouldn't have. There was nothing wrong with your daddy. That girl never did him any harm. If anything, she did him a world of good. She brought him something special. That's why he named you after her."

"I know," Leslie said, and smiled. Maybe her grandparents weren't as bad as she thought. She finished her breakfast, drank her orange juice, and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Well, y'all run along and play now," said Grandma. "This is your summer vacation, so why don't you go out and have fun? There are plenty of kids around. Wait till they find out you're Jess Aarons' daughter! 'Course if you don't want to, you could always stay here and pick beans with me."

"No thanks, Grandma!" Leslie chirped, and ran off to get dressed. She put on her faded blue t-shirt top and a pair of cutoff shorts. Then she fished a hair scrunchy and her Washington Nationals baseball cap out of her suitcase. She tied her hair into a ponytail, which she tucked through the back of her cap after she put it on.

After she tied her sneakers tight, Leslie headed out. She stopped short of the kitchen when she heard her grandparents talking.

"That poor child," Grandma said. "I hope Jess and Sara don't split up. They've been together too long – you just don't walk away from fifteen years of marriage."

"Folks married longer than that break up," said Grandpa. "But if I know my son, he'll try his best to make it work. He's not the kind who gives up easy. But that damn woman… I don't know about _her_. She's got a thick skull, that one."

"That's for sure," Grandma agreed.

Leslie cringed. Her father had told her that Grandma and Grandpa never really liked Mom. Now she knew for sure. But there was no point holding it against them. They never really liked Leslie Burke, either – until after she died.

Leslie took a deep breath and went into the kitchen. "Okay, I'm going. Bye!"

"Bye, dear," said Grandpa.

"Have fun, honey," said Grandma.

_Not likely_, Leslie thought, as she bounded out the back door.


	2. Chapter 2

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 2: The Voice In The Woods

As Leslie Aarons explored her grandparents' farm, she remembered that they used to have a cow. Her name was Miss Bessie, and milking her was one of Leslie's father's chores. But Dad liked Miss Bessie, and didn't really mind. Of course, that was a long time ago. Grandma and Grandpa Aarons didn't have a cow or any livestock anymore, just their vegetable gardens. It would have been nice, Leslie thought, to pet the cow and milk her.

_Yeah, right – I'd probably end up squirting milk all over myself._ Leslie pictured herself milking Miss Bessie and losing control of the cow's udders, milk spraying everywhere – on her shirt, on her pants, in her face, eyes, and hair. She felt the giggles bubble up inside her. She fought them at first, then surrendered. She needed a good laugh.

Leslie surveyed her grandparents' land. Besides the gardens, there was a cow pasture, but no cow to graze in it. They still had the scrap heap, too. She could just picture her father when he was her age, taking his practice runs through the cow pasture. She saw the fence that marked the property line between her grandparents' farm and the place next door. Dad used to call it the Perkins Place, though the Perkinses had long since moved out. And the Burkes had moved in.

Leslie walked over to the fence. This was where he met her. This was where Dad met Leslie Burke. He had been in the middle of a practice run when she called out to him. She was sitting on this very fence. He didn't think much of her then, but soon, they were inseparable. Sure, Dad had a big crush on his music teacher, but it was Leslie Burke who became his true love – though he didn't really understand the depth of his feelings for her until he lost her.

A lump of cold sadness moved around inside Leslie's gut. She didn't want to look at the fence anymore. Besides, there was much more to see. She walked out front and down the road, taking in the sweet, musky perfume of fresh grass and hay that filled the air. She hadn't walked that far when, on the right of the road, she noticed what looked like a path winding through some tall grass and into a woodsy area. She followed the path for a while, then suddenly stopped cold when she recognized it.

The path led to a clearing. Beyond the clearing, in the distance, was a creek bed. Standing near it was a tall oak tree. Leslie knew that an enchanted rope had once hung from one of that tree's branches.

Her heart racing, Leslie turned around and ran back to the road. She wanted to get as far away from that… that place… as she could. When she'd walked about half a mile down the road past it, she looked back and couldn't see the path anymore. She felt a strong sense of relief. She continued walking.

Leslie's ears pricked up at the sound of distant voices. The farther she walked, the louder the voices became. Finally, she saw where they were coming from. In the distance, in another cow pasture, a group of kids were playing a pickup baseball game with wiffle balls and bats. One of the kids – a girl, she thought – waved at her, but Leslie pretended not to notice. She kept walking.

Soon, Leslie came upon another path. This one was to the left of the road. She decided to follow it. The path took her into a deeper part of the woods, with more trees and plenty of shade to keep the hot sun off her back. It felt nice here. It was quiet. By now she had walked quite a distance, but she didn't care. It was so beautiful here in this part of the woods. When she came across a huge tree stump, she sat down to rest her feet.

Leslie wished her parents could have been there with her. They could have a picnic right here with sandwiches and iced tea and cookies. They could spread the blanket right over the tree stump. _Yeah, right,_ Leslie thought. _They could have a picnic and not say a word to each other. _Actually, they were probably saying a lot of words to each other in D.C. right now – most of them swears.

_Mom and Dad used to be so close. They used to have this special little half-smile they'd give each other. They used to hold hands all the time. What happened to them? Why do they have to get a divorce? Why now? They've been married almost fifteen years!_

Leslie closed her eyes. A parade of horrible images ran through her mind. She saw herself shuffled between two different homes, her parents fighting over her. Now she was in a courtroom, talking to the judge:

_Leslie, do you want to live with your father or your mother?_

_I –_

_Mr. Aarons, Mrs. Aarons, I see those looks you're giving your daughter. You're trying to turn her against each other. Maybe you'd rather I put her in a foster home?_

Leslie's face fell into her hands. She felt the hot tears run down her cheeks and between her fingers. _It's not fair! It's just not fair! They send me all the way out here… don't I have a say in this? I'm their daughter!_

"Why dost thou weep, fair maiden?"

The voice scared Leslie so bad that she almost fell off the tree stump. Her heart in her throat, she quickly wiped her eyes with her t-shirt and looked around.

There was nobody there. She looked to the left and right. She looked behind her, but there was nobody there. She was sure that she'd heard a voice. Was she going crazy? No, no, it wasn't inside her head. It couldn't have been. It came from somewhere in the woods, and it clearly said –

"Why dost thou weep, fair maiden?"

There it was again! Leslie looked around her and behind her, but again, there was nobody there.

"Cast thy eyes to the heavens, fair maiden!"

This time, Leslie looked _up._

A boy was sitting on a branch in a tree near her – on a branch too high up to be safe. He smiled at her and waved.

"Are you crazy? Come down before you fall!"

The boy laughed. He moved over, clung to the tree's trunk with his arms and legs, and moved himself down, little by little. When he was about four feet off the ground, he jumped and landed square on his feet.

"It's faster going up than going down," he explained.

"Haven't you got anything better to do than risking your life to spy on people?" Leslie asked.

"You insult me, fair maiden – I am no spy! Verily, I was engaged in quiet contemplation when thou arrived and sat down to weep. Again, I put the question to thee: why dost thou weep?"

"None of your beeswax. And why do you talk like that? Who do you think you are, Robin Hood?"

"Ah, good Robin! A fine fellow! No, I am not him, but you flatter me, milady. I am but a wandering knight in search of adventure. And what better place to find adventure than here in yon enchanted forest?"

"Oh brother!"

Leslie couldn't help but laugh. And with her laughter came a wonderful feeling from somewhere deep inside her. The boy was not offended when she laughed at him. He smiled at her warmly.

"You made me feel better," Leslie said. "Thanks."

"The pleasure was entirely mine, milady," the boy replied, and bowed graciously. Then a serious look came to his face. "Are you sure you're allright?"

He was really concerned about her. He wasn't playing around this time.

"I'm fine. Things have been… complicated lately."

"Oh. I haven't seen you around before - you just move in?"

"Oh, no, no, I live in Washington, D.C. I'm just spending the summer here in Lark Creek with my grandparents. Well, _maybe_ the whole summer, maybe not. I don't know. I have no idea what's going on anymore."

"Sometimes I feel the same way," the boy said. He sat down on the tree stump and Leslie joined him. "We might as well be friends. I'm Jamie Byrne. That's B-Y-R-N-E, like David Byrne, the rock singer. No relation."

Jamie held out his hand. Leslie shook it. She looked him over. He was about her age and her height. He wore a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers that had seen better days. His chestnut hair was short, but not one of those gross crew cuts that most boys liked. His blue eyes sparkled like pool water on a sunny day.

He was… well… cute. She had to admit it to herself.

"I'm Leslie."

"Leslie what?"

She wanted to say Thomas. That was her mother's maiden name, which she still used for her real estate business. But it wasn't Leslie's last name, and if she used it, she would be just another phony. Besides, sooner or later, Jamie would find out who she really was.

"Aarons," Leslie sighed. "Leslie Aarons."

"Aarons? The only Aaronses around here are… hey, are you Jess Aarons' daughter?"

"Yup. I guess you'll want me to get you his autograph…"

"No," Jamie said matter-of-factly. "I don't collect autographs. But I do have all his books. _Bridge To Terabithia_ is my favorite! I just got the movie on DVD. It must be cool having Jess Aarons for your father."

Leslie shrugged. "To me, he's just Dad."

"I bet it can be pretty tough, too - having a famous father. And being named after Leslie Burke."

She was taken aback by his understanding. Nobody ever said that to her before.

"Yeah, I mean… I know _why_ Dad named me after her, and I think it's wonderful that he did, but… sometimes I wish he hadn't."

Jamie nodded. "I guess some folks don't realize that Leslie Burke and Leslie Aarons are two different people. They look at _you, _and all they think about is Leslie Burke – and Jess Aarons."

"Yeah!"

_Wow!_ Leslie thought. _He understands me – he really understands me!_

"So… have you seen it?"

"The movie? Sure. I went to the world premiere."

"No, not the movie! I mean _Terabithia_," Jamie said. He whispered the name with a kind of quiet awe. "The _real_ Terabithia. I know where it is. It's not far from your grandparents' place. C'mon, I'll take you there. You've gotta see it!"

Jamie went to get up, but Leslie grabbed his arm.

"No! Can't we just stay here? I've already seen… that place. I don't need to see it again."

"S'Okay," Jamie said. He must have sensed her anxiety; he smiled warmly and said, "Seeing as you've already been to the kingdom of Terabithia, we shall remain here, milady. Perchance thou might allow me to escort thee through yon enchanted forest and show thee my shire? As a proper lady, thou _must_ be escorted by a knight, for while the forest is enchanted, the shire is filled with upstarts and rogues."

Leslie started giggling. "Why of course you may escort me, good knight!"

They got up and started walking.

"So… do you go there often?" Leslie asked. "To Terabithia, I mean."

"I've only been there a couple of times," said Jamie. "You don't go there to run around and play. It's a solemn place… like sacred ground, you know? It's a sad place, too. I mean, it doesn't _look_ like a sad place, but… we both know what happened there. So does everyone else here in Lark Creek."

"Yeah. After Dad's book came out…"

"That has nothing to do with it. People have been talking about Leslie Burke ever since she died thirty years ago. When a little girl gets killed in a small town like this, nobody ever forgets it. Even if your dad hadn't become famous and written about her, folks around here would still be talking about the day the poor Burke girl was found dead in the creek."

"I never thought about it like that."

"You know what? I'm glad your dad wrote _Bridge To Terabithia_. Now people know who Leslie Burke really was – that she wasn't just some poor anonymous kid who got killed in an accident. She was a rare and special person – the kind you don't see too often. That's what makes her story so tragic. I must have read _Bridge To Terabithia_ a hundred times, and I always cry at the end. The movie made me cry, too."

"Wow," Leslie gasped. "You don't hear many boys admit _that_."

Jamie blushed. "What? That a sad story made me cry? I'm not a robot, you know! Besides, your dad wrote the story, he was a boy when it happened, and he cried."

"He cried a lot. I don't think he _stopped_ crying over Leslie Burke. I've never seen him cry, but… I think he still does. It's like he's haunted by her ghost."

"Ah! We have reached the sand pit, milady!"

In front of them, the forest gave way to a wide-open space with a dirt floor. There were all kinds of tire tracks in the dirt. Someone had laid out a few makeshift ramps. The area was overlooked by several tall hills. There were dirt trails that ran up and over all of them, then back down again on the other side.

"This is where the big kids come to ride their dirt bikes and ATVs," Jamie explained. Leslie saw that there was something beyond the hills, like a huge clearing. _Is that the back way to Terabithia, _she wondered?

"What's on the other side of those hills?" Leslie asked.

"The back of the Henshaws' cornfield."

"Oh. Hey, my grandpa said he was going fishing with Joe Henshaw."

"That's his cornfield. It's part of the family farm. Old Man Henshaw and your grandpa have been friends since before your dad was born. They used to go to D.C. together to look for work – you know, day labor, that kind of stuff – because it was hard making a go of farming. It still is. Come milady, our journey awaits!"

Jamie led her to the left of the sand pit, where the path continued through another woodsy area. He started to sing the tune he'd been humming since they left:

_"We are all just lilies of the valley,  
We neither reap nor sow.  
We need to get our hands a little dirty  
to make our gardens grow..."_

"I like that," Leslie said. "Who sings it?"

"Like I said before, David Byrne. You've never heard of him?"

"Nope."

"He used to be the singer of a great band called Talking Heads. Then he went solo."

"I've never heard of Talking Heads, either."

"My Uncle Steve gives me CDs and sends me MP3s all the time. He's really into music, especially the older stuff. He had his own band when he was in high school – he was the lead guitarist. He's a teacher now, at Lark Creek Elementary. He's the music teacher. He knows your Aunt May Belle. She teaches there, too – fifth grade. Maybe I'll have her this year."

"Wow, really? That is so cool! I'll have to ask her about your uncle."

"You'd like him. He's my dad's brother, but he's nothing like Dad. All my father cares about is sports, and that really sucks when you have no athletic ability and your older brother is the star pitcher on the high school baseball team."

"You have a brother? I wish I had a brother."

"You want mine? You can have him."

"He can't be that bad."

"He's a jerk. And a total himbo."

"A _what?_ Leslie laughed. She never heard such a funny sounding word in her life.

"A himbo. You know, a guy bimbo. A _himbo._ A guy with great looks and athletic ability, but no brains."

"He must have some good points – besides being able to pitch."

"Never thee mind, milady. Our journey is almost at an end. We have no time to waste on the discourse of knaves. We have reached the shire!"

They had come to a hill, on top of which houses could be seen through the trees. Jamie led Leslie up the hill and through the trees. They came out onto a dead end street in an unfamiliar neighborhood.

"Where are we?"

"In my shire, where my castle awaits us."

"Huh?"

"This is where I live. My house is across the street." He pointed out a nice looking two-story house with white siding and blue shutters. "Are you thirsty? I am. We'll get something to drink, and then I'll show you my room."

"Cool!" Leslie beamed. She _was_ thirsty, and it would be nice to get out of the heat for a while.

Jamie bowed graciously and said, "Come then, milady, and grant me the pleasure of thy company. You will find me a most gracious host." He offered her his hand again.

"I am sure, good knight." She took his hand, and they walked across the street to Jamie's house.

"Thou art most fortunate, milady. 'Tis rare that I have visitors. I do hope the squire remembered to board the horses. Mind wherest thou step, lest thee soil thy dainty feet."

"Ewww!" Leslie groaned through her laughter. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, milady."

"How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Talk like that?"

"I don't know," Jamie said, smiling. "I just do."


	3. Chapter 3

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 3: Jamie Byrne

The air conditioning was like a cold blast of heaven. Jamie closed the door behind them, then kicked off his shoes. Leslie kicked hers off, too. She knew that some people liked to leave their shoes at the door so they wouldn't track in dirt. They liked their guests to do the same, and Leslie didn't want to offend Jamie or his family.

"I'm home!" Jamie announced. Then to Leslie, he said, "Follow me."

She followed him up the stairs and into the kitchen. It was bigger than her grandparents' kitchen, with a bright, sparkling white linoleum floor. There was a counter with a marble top and two tall stools next to it. The cabinets looked like they had been polished. The fine grain wood gleamed. The Byrnes had a dishwasher and their refrigerator was not only bigger than her grandparents', it also had water and crushed ice dispensers. Instead of a wall oven, they had a fancy electric range with a flat stovetop. There was a microwave oven above the stove and a big electric oven below it.

It was almost as nice as the kitchen in Leslie's house in Washington.

Jamie opened the refrigerator and took out a glass pitcher. It was filled with iced tea. Several lemon slices floated on the top. He set the pitcher on the counter, then got out two tall glasses from a cabinet. He filled them both and handed one to Leslie.

She took a good swig. "Ahhh! Oh, that's good!"

Jamie smiled and took a swig of his own. Then he rubbed the glass across his sweaty forehead.

"Jamie, did you – oh, hello there," a voice said.

Leslie turned to face the speaker. It was a woman. She looked surprised – and delighted.

"Hi, Mom," said Jamie.

"And who's _this_ lovely young lady?" his mother asked.

"This is Leslie. Leslie, this is my mom."

"Hi."

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Byrne," she said. Then to Jamie: "Oh, Jamie, look at you – you're all sweaty and scruffy. That's no way to impress a girl, honey."

Leslie snickered. Jamie blushed three shades of red. "Mom, she's not my _girlfriend_ – I just met her!"

"And I'm sweaty and scruffy too," Leslie added. She winked at Jamie.

"I was gonna show her my room," Jamie explained.

"Oh, all right then. Have fun!"

The front door burst open. A man and an older boy in a baseball uniform came in. They were smiling and talking loudly.

"You see?" said the man as they bounded up the stairs. "Just put a little more pressure on top of the ball with the tip of your middle finger, and you can crack a bat in half with that cutter!"

"How did my slider look?"

"Beautiful! The batter thinks you're throwing a strike, but by the time he swings, the ball's shining his shoes!"

The man kicked off his shoes. The boy took off his cleats and hoisted them over his shoulder by the laces. Then they both went up the stairs.

"That's my dad and my brother, _Zack_," Jamie said to Leslie. He pronounced his brother's name with an accent of disgust. Zack looked like Jamie, but he was several years older. He had the same blue eyes and the same mouth, but his jaw was square and chiseled. When he took his cap off, Leslie saw that Zack had a really gross crew cut. The top of his head looked like a chestnut brown tennis ball.

"Hey, Liberace," Zack said to Jamie. "Shouldn't you be tickling the ivories?"

"Shouldn't _you_ be at baseball camp?"

"I came home for lunch." He went to the refrigerator.

"What a great way to spend my day off! You should have seen him," Jamie's dad said to his mom. "He's gonna pitch another no-hitter, I can feel it. And, there's some talk about college recruiters coming to a couple of the home games in the fall. Wait till _they_ see Zack! Then after college, the majors!"

Mr. Byrne looked at Leslie and said, "Who's this?"

"This is Leslie," Mrs. Byrne said. "Jamie's _friend_."

"Well, how about that? I was wondering when you'd get around to bringing home a girl!"

"Don't get excited Dad," Zack said, chugging an iced tea. "They're just gonna play with her Barbies and do each other's hair."

Jamie's anger rocketed to the surface. "Shut up, _Zackass!_"

"Jamie!" his mother barked. "How many times have I told you not to call your brother that?"

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, Leslie. I'll show you my room."

They put their empty glasses in the sink. Leslie followed Jamie him out of the kitchen and down the hall, where he pointed out the rooms. "That's my parents' room, that's the master bathroom, that's Zack's room, and this one's mine."

Jamie's room was bigger than Leslie's room at her grandparents' house, but somewhat smaller than her room back in Washington. The second thing Leslie noticed is that the room was kept scrupulously neat, which was good, because Jamie had a lot of stuff. In addition to his bed, there was a nightstand, a dresser with four drawers and a stereo on top, and a computer desk with a desktop PC and wide screen monitor. What really caught her eye was the full-sized, professional-looking electronic keyboard in a corner of the room. It was kept on a stand with wheels on its feet. There was a chair by the keyboard, and sheet music was propped up on the instrument's built-in music stand.

"Oh, cool! Do you play?" Leslie asked. She took off her Nationals cap and tossed it onto Jamie's bed. Then she pulled off her hair scrunchy and stuffed it into her pocket. She shook her hair out and smoothed it down.

"Yeah, I've been playing since…" Jamie said, and his words trailed off. He gave her a funny look.

"What?"

"You're cute." He smiled impishly and Leslie felt herself blush. He quickly changed the subject. "I've been playing since I was five," he continued. "But then, I had just a small keyboard, only twenty keys. It was basically a toy, and it came with an instruction book that taught you how to play songs by matching the color codes in the book with the ones on the keys. When I was six, I asked if I could take piano lessons, and my parents said yes, so I went to the music store in Millsburg and got to play on a real piano. A year later, I got this beauty for Christmas. It's full-sized keyboard – it's got all 88 keys. It's also got all kinds of effects and programmable drumbeats and stuff."

"That is so awesome."

"Yeah, I can even digitally record myself playing or connect the keyboard to my computer with a USB cable. The keyboard came with MIDI software, but it's very basic. The real professional MIDI software is much more complicated – and really expensive. What I've got is fine, really. I'm not exactly a professional musician. At least, not yet."

"So you can read music?"

"Yup. I can play by ear, too."

"What does that mean?"

"If I listen to a song often enough, I can pick out the chords and the melody on my keyboard. I can learn to play the song without having the sheet music in front of me."

"Cool!"

"You want me to play you a song?"

"Yeah! If it's not too much trouble…"

Jamie took the chair from his computer desk and set it up next to the keyboard for Leslie. Then he sat down and turned it on.

"Okay… um… I know! I'll play you this song called _Bike_ by Pink Floyd. You'll like it. It's kind of a funny song."

"Pink Floyd? Does he wear pink when he sings?"

"No. Pink Floyd is the name of a band. Their first album came out 40 years ago and they were around for like 30 years after that. The original members were Roger Waters, Syd Barrett, David Gilmour, Nick Wilson, and Richard Wright. Syd Barrett left the band early on. They say he went crazy. He was a like a demented genius or something. He wrote _Bike_, the song I'm going to play. Pink Floyd is one of my Uncle Steve's favorite bands. He burned me a CD with all their albums in MP3. I learned how to play this song by ear. You ready?"

"Sure!"

Jamie pressed a button and the programmable electronic drums set the beat. After a few beats, Jamie started playing. He played the chords with his left hand and the melody with his right. It was a cheerful, upbeat melody. He began to sing:

_"I've got a bike, you can ride it if you like  
it's got a basket, a bell that rings,  
and things to make it look good  
I'd give it to you if I could,  
but I borrowed it_

_You're the kind of girl  
that fits in with my world  
I'll give you anything  
everything, if you want things_

_I've got a cloak, it's a bit of a joke  
there's a tear up the front  
it's red and black, I've had it for months  
If you think it could look good  
then I guess it should_

_You're the kind of girl  
that fits in with my world  
I'll give you anything  
everything, if you want things_

_I know a mouse  
and he hasn't got a house  
I don't know why, I call him Gerald  
He's getting rather old,  
but he's a good mouse_

_You're the kind of girl  
that fits in with my world  
I'll give you anything  
everything, if you want things_

_I've got a clan of gingerbread men  
Here a man, there a man,  
lots of gingerbread men  
Take a couple if you wish -  
they're on the dish_

_You're the kind of girl  
that fits in with my world  
I'll give you anything  
everything, if you want things_

_I know a room of musical tunes  
some rhyme, some ching  
most of them are clockwork  
Let's go into the other room  
and make them work."_

Leslie clapped her hands. "That was great!"

"Thank you, you're a beautiful audience."

"Can I try?"

"Sure."

Leslie ran her fingers over the keys. Then she tapped out the melody of _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star._

"Not bad," Jamie said. "Not bad at all!"

"I had a toy keyboard, too, but I never took lessons or anything."

"I bet _your_ dad would let you. I bet _he_ wouldn't think… ah, forget it."

Jamie looked dejected. He turned off the keyboard, went over to his bed, and plopped down on it. He moved over so Leslie could lie down next to him. Then he sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

"What's wrong?" Leslie asked.

"I miss my piano lessons."

"You don't take them anymore? Why not?"

"Last year, Dad called a family meeting and said that money was getting tight and he couldn't afford both my piano lessons _and_ Zack's baseball camp anymore. He said the money he had to spend would be better spent on baseball camp, so I had to give up my lessons."

"That's not fair!" Leslie couldn't believe what she was hearing! How could Jamie's own father do that to him? It was just as unfair as… _what my parents are doing to me_, she thought. She looked at Jamie. He smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes.

"No, it's not fair," he continued. "I was so mad…"

"What about your mom? Didn't _she_ have anything to say about it?"

"Mom's only interested in keeping the peace. She said maybe in a few years, after Zack goes to college on a baseball scholarship, I can have piano lessons again."

"It's still not fair."

"I know. Sometimes, _life_ isn't fair. Look what happened to Leslie Burke. That had to be the most unfair thing in the world. When you think about it, I'm pretty lucky. I've still got my keyboard, and Uncle Steve's been giving me some lessons, mostly in reading music and understanding how it works. Time signatures, scales, keys - that kind of stuff. Too bad he's a guitarist, not a keyboard player. But he's a great guitarist! You know, he got really mad when he found out I had to quit my lessons. He tried to talk to Dad about it, but…"

Jamie's mother barged into the room, startling Leslie so that she almost fell off the bed.

"I thought it had gotten too quiet in here! Jamie, it's time to eat. Leslie, would you like to stay for lunch?"

"Thanks, but I should go. My grandma's probably got lunch on the table by now. See, I'm staying with my grandparents for a while."

"She's from Washington," Jamie added.

"Oh, I bet that's an exciting city! Say, who are your grandparents? Maybe we know them. Lark Creek is a small town."

Leslie and Jamie exchanged a look. She had painted herself into a corner and he couldn't save her. "Their name is Aarons," Leslie said. "That's my name, too. Leslie Aarons."

Mrs. Byrne's jaw dropped. "Aarons? My lord, are you Jess Aarons' daughter?"

Leslie nodded yes.

Mrs. Byrne turned and ran down the hall. "John! John!" Jamie followed her. Leslie grabbed her Nationals cap, put it on, and followed them both.

Mr. Byrne and Zack were sitting at the dining room table.

"What? What is it?"

"We have a celebrity in our home! Leslie is Jess Aarons' daughter!"

"The writer?"

"No way!" Zack interjected.

Leslie exchanged stares with the Byrnes and their teenage son.

"C'mon Leslie, I'll walk you home," Jamie said.

"You're a Nationals fan?" Zack asked. "I should give you my autograph. I'll be playing for them after college. I'll be going to college on a baseball scholarship."

Jamie snickered. "Unless you hurt that arm. Then the only college _you'll_ be going to is Hamburger University."

"Don't say that, it's bad luck!" Mr. Byrne yelled. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"Jamie, that was uncalled for!" his mother scolded. "What do you say to your brother?"

Jamie ignored her and took off down the stairs. Leslie followed him. They put their shoes on. When he opened the door, his mother yelled, "Get back here! I'm not finished with you, young man!" He slammed the door on her.

"But I'm finished with _you,_" he muttered. "Sorry about that, Leslie."

"It's okay. Thanks for walking me home. I was kind of afraid I might get lost. It's a long walk."

"I'd never let you get lost," Jamie said. His warm smile returned.

They were well into the woods when Leslie asked him, "Jamie, do you really hate your brother?"

"Nah. I just don't like him much."

"But he's your brother."

"I know."

"Is it because you had to quit your piano lessons?"

"No. It's a long story. See, most brothers are close. They're buddies. Not Zack and me. We were never close. We were never buddies."

"Why not?"

"Well, Zack is six years older than me. That's a big difference. When I was little, Mom made Zack take me with him almost everywhere he went. He didn't want his baby brother tagging along, and I didn't want to tag along because I thought Zack and his friends were a bunch of jerks. I guess that's when we started disliking each other. When Zack played little league baseball, he was almost as good a pitcher as he is now. When I got old enough, Dad made _me_ play little league baseball, and I hated it. I stunk at it, too. Dad thought he could make me into another Zack, but I'm no athlete. He finally gave up on the idea. I could tell he was disappointed in me."

"So he gives Zack all the attention."

"And all the breaks. I get straight A's in school, and all Dad says is 'Good for you, son.' Zack gets C's and Dad says nothing. If I ever got a C, he'd be all over me. He'd say, 'You got a _C_? What the hell is wrong with you? You can do better than that!'"

"I thought athletes had to get good grades, or else they couldn't play."

"Athletes have to maintain at least a straight B average to play. That's what it says in Zack's high school student handbook, and that's what the school would like people to believe. But when you're a star player and the team is winning a lot of games because of you, they're willing to bend the rules and let you play, even if you're a C student like Zack."

"Really? No wonder you don't like your brother."

"Dad and Uncle Steve are brothers, and I don't think they like each other much. When I told Uncle Steve how Dad fawns over Zack, he told me that Dad always wanted to be a baseball player, but he wasn't much good at it. He was almost as bad as me. Uncle Steve said the only position Dad could play on his little league team was benchwarmer. So he's living out his childhood dream through Zack."

"But what about his other son?"

"Oh, fear not, milady, for he has a stout heart. Now, let us move on to a lighter discourse. Look! Before us is the tree stump where first we met!"

"Oh yeah!" Leslie beamed. She looked at the stump, then up at the tree branch where Jamie had been sitting when they met.

"You have still not told me what gave thee cause to weep."

"Maybe I will, but not now. I have to get home."

They kept walking. When they reached the path that led to Terabithia, Jamie looked at it, but said nothing. Leslie was glad. She thought he might try to talk her into going there, but he didn't.

Jamie walked Leslie right to the door of her grandparents' house.

"On my honor, I have escorted thee home, fair maiden!"

"Thank you, good knight… um… do you think we could do something tomorrow?"

"Sure! Call me – my number is 555-6381."

"555-6381. Thanks."

"Until next we meet, milady!" Jamie said. Then he took off running.

"Until next we meet, my knight," said Leslie. She smiled to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 4: The Dinner Guests

Grandma did have lunch on the table, and it was delicious. She'd baked a casserole made of grits, cheddar cheese, garlic, chicken broth, and other ingredients. There was also tomato soup and salad. Grandma and Grandpa drank coffee, and they offered Leslie a cup, but she asked for milk instead. She knew that her dad drank coffee when he was her age, and he loved it. But Leslie hated coffee.

"So, you meet some kids?" Grandma asked.

"I met _one._ A boy. He was very nice. We're going to do something tomorrow."

"What?"

"I don't know. Something."

"What's this boy's name?" asked Grandpa.

"Jamie. Jamie Byrne."

"Byrne? The music teacher at the elementary school, his name's Byrne. Any relation?"

"That's his uncle."

"Would you like to invite Jamie over tomorrow? I'd invite him to dinner tonight, but we're having two guests already, and I know they'd like to see you."

Leslie almost choked on her forkful of casserole. Could it be her parents already? It if was, they must have gotten one of those "quickie divorces" she heard about on TV. She just got here yesterday afternoon! She didn't want to ask, but she knew she had to.

"Who's coming, Grandma?"

"Your aunts."

The gears in Leslie's mind started working. Aunt Ellie and her family lived in Texas. Aunt Brenda and her family lived in North Carolina. So it must be…

"Aunt May Belle and Aunt Joyce?"

"Yep. Just them, though – not your uncles and cousins. They said they didn't want to overwhelm me. Nonsense. For years, I cooked three meals a day for seven people, seven days a week! They could have brought have brought their families."

Leslie was glad they didn't. Not only would Grandma have been overwhelmed, _she_ would have been, too. She wanted to talk to Aunt May Belle and Aunt Joyce about her dad – and Leslie Burke. Now she'd have the chance.

After lunch, Leslie helped Grandma wash and dry the dishes. Then she went to her room. She took her cell phone out of her suitcase, flipped it open, and switched it on. The boot-up tones played, and the main screen came up. After a few seconds, the signal display appeared on the screen. Out of the eight possible bars, only one lit up. The same thing happened yesterday.

Leslie knew it was pointless to call Jamie from her phone. Even if it managed a connection, the call would drop off quickly. Her father had told her not to bother packing the cell phone, because Lark Creek would probably be out of range.

There was one thing she could do with her cell phone. She pressed the Menu button, then selected Contacts. She keyed in Jamie's name and telephone number. Then she turned off the phone and put it back in the pocket compartment of her suitcase.

Leslie thought about calling Jamie from the kitchen phone, but he and his family might still be eating lunch. She'd call him later. Now, she felt like taking a shower. She was still sweaty and sticky from before.

Later that afternoon, a freshly washed and dressed Leslie brushed her hair, looking at herself in the old mirror that her father and his little sisters used to look at themselves in. She could just picture Aunt May Belle trying to get her long, ornery hair under control, brushing it over and over again, and asking her big brother to help put in barrettes or tie up a ponytail. _Poor Dad_, she thought, and chuckled.

Leslie decided to watch some TV before dinner. Her grandparents still had their old console color TV – the kind that was built in a wooden cabinet, looked like a piece of furniture, and sat on the floor. She had to admit that the picture wasn't bad, but it wasn't nearly as good as the high definition TV at her house. The remote was kind of big and bulky, which was surprising, because it only controlled the TV set.

Grandma and Grandpa had basic cable – about seventy or so channels, but no premium movie channels. Leslie started flipping through the lineup. She stopped at the Disney channel. A rerun of Hannah Montana was on. Just about every girl at Leslie's private school in Washington had a Hannah Montana t-shirt, DVD, CD, toy, or something – every girl but Leslie. She couldn't care less about Hannah Montana. She didn't understand what the big deal was about that show. She didn't even like the music. She wondered if Jamie liked it, and the very thought almost made her burst out laughing.

Leslie made her way through all the channels. There wasn't much on, so she switched back to CNN. She could always find something interesting on CNN, because there were lots of interesting things going on in the world. Her parents didn't like her watching some of the bad things – like when that crazy man killed all those people at the Virginia Tech college campus in April. When her mother caught her watching the story on CNN, she made her turn it off. She asked her father how far Virginia Tech was from Lark Creek.

The sound of her grandmother rattling around pots and pans in the kitchen caught Leslie's attention. She switched off the TV and went to see what Grandma was up to. What she was up to was cooking dinner. Grandma filled a big pot with water, then she put in a bunch of freshly peeled, whole potatoes. There was gravy simmering in another pot.

On the table, Grandma had set up her deep fryer. Next to the fryer were two big, empty glass bowls. There were also two big trays full of chicken parts – drumsticks, thighs and wings.

"You're just in time, honey. I was just about to make my Southern fried chicken. You want to help me?"

"Sure!" Leslie beamed.

After they washed their hands, Grandma showed her how to make the seasoned flour. "It's simple, really. I season the flour with a little salt and pepper, some garlic powder, and poultry seasoning. Then I coat the chicken with the flour." She let Leslie help her flour the chicken.

"Next, we make the batter. It's just flour, salt, pepper, eggs, buttermilk, some water, and my secret ingredient. You won't tell anyone now, will you?"

Leslie shook her head a vigorous no.

After Grandma mixed the other ingredients, she went to the spice cabinet and pulled out a little jar and a teaspoon measure. "Paprika. Just a couple teaspoons is all you need for a big bowl of batter." She opened the jar and let Leslie smell the aroma. Then she measured two teaspoons added them to the batter. The ruddy spice looked kind of like a powdered brick, but it smelled wonderful.

They coated all the floured chicken pieces with batter. Then Grandma put some of the pieces into the fryer basket. She lowered it carefully into the fryer. "Always take care not to splash the oil when you're deep frying. You could get burned real bad. And don't take your eyes off your frying for too long. Food can get overcooked pretty quick in hot oil, and a grease fire can start real easy. Run and get me two big dinner plates and put a few sheets of paper towel on each, will you, honey?"

Leslie did as she was asked. When she put the plates on the table, Grandma carefully lifted the basket out of the oil. The chicken was fried a deep golden brown. Grandma used her tongs to take out each piece and put them on one of the plates Leslie prepared. It looked and smelled so good that Leslie felt like devouring a couple of pieces right then – even if it meant burning her tongue to a crisp. But she knew better. After taking all the cooked chicken out of the fryer basket, Grandma put more of the uncooked pieces into it.

The doorbell rang. "That'll be your aunts. Get the door, will you, honey?"

Leslie raced into the living room and answered the door.

"Aunt May Belle! Aunt Joyce!"

"Leslie!"

Leslie hugged both her aunts. They walked in and Aunt May Belle called out "Momma?"

"In the kitchen, dear!" Grandma called back.

"Grandma's making Southern fried chicken," Leslie said.

"Oh, you're in for a treat," said Aunt Joyce.

Leslie and her aunts sat down on the sofa. Aunt May Belle's blonde hair was no longer ornery. It was shoulder-length and smartly styled. Aunt Joyce, who almost looked like her sister's twin though she was a couple years younger, had her hair cut shorter. It was even more smartly styled than Aunt May Belle's. That wasn't a surprise. Aunt Joyce managed a fancy women's clothing store at the Millsburg Galleria mall.

"Look at _you_, Leslie," said Aunt May Belle. "Seems like just the other day Jess and Sara brought you up from the hospital in your little pink bunting… I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. How are you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess."

"I got you a little something," Aunt May Belle said, and fished an object out of her purse. It was a CD. She handed it to Leslie.

"Thanks!" Leslie chirped. Then she looked at the CD. "Hannah Montana…" There was genuine surprise in her voice.

"Oh, don't tell me you already have that one…"

"No, I can honestly say that I don't. Thanks, Aunt May Belle."

"You're welcome, sweetie. So, how do you like Lark Creek? Have you been out exploring? You meet any kids yet?"

"I met one this morning. A boy."

"Oooh!" Leslie's aunts cooed. She ignored it.

"I think you know him, Aunt May Belle. His name is Jamie Byrne."

"Sure, his uncle Steve Byrne is the music teacher at Lark Creek Elementary! Steve says that Jamie has quite a talent on the keyboard. He's cute, too."

"Aunt May Belle…"

"He _must_ be cute," Aunt Joyce interjected. "She's blushing."

"Aunt Joyce…"

Leslie's grandmother popped her head into the living room. "Leslie, would you go out back to the garden and tell Grandpa to wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

"I'll do it, Momma," Aunt Joyce said, and went off.

"Did Dad tell you anything about… what's going on, Aunt May Belle?" Leslie asked.

"Your daddy called me the day before he drove you up here, but I've known for a while that he and your mother were having… problems. He told me what he – what they both planned to do while you're here."

"So they are going to divorce," Leslie sighed. She sounded like a deflating balloon. She felt like one, too.

"No, they're _not_ going to divorce. At least, not yet."

"Then what _are_ they going to do?"

"Well, you're ten now, I think you're old enough to understand. They're going to a marriage retreat. It's kind of like marriage counseling, only you go with a few other couples, and the leaders of the retreat work with all the couples. The retreat is held in a quiet, secluded location, so there's no distractions. This particular retreat is designed for… well, for famous couples. Which makes sense, when you think about it. It would be hard for Jess Aarons to work on his marriage with the press snooping around and other couples so star struck that they're more interested in him than in working on their own marriages."

"What other famous people are going to be there?"

"I have no idea. Your daddy couldn't tell me because of the confidentiality agreement he signed. And I'm sure he wouldn't want them to tell anyone about him being there, either."

"How long will he and Mom be gone?"

"Well, some marriage retreats last only a weekend, some up to a week. The retreat your parents are going to is for couples who are… in trouble. It lasts for two weeks. It's kind of like a vacation. The place is way up in the mountains somewhere. Each couple has their own cabin, and the leaders – a guy and his wife, I don't remember their names – have a cabin too, which is also their office."

"Why didn't Mom and Dad tell _me_ any of this?"

"They didn't want you to get your hopes up. They don't know if this retreat is going to work, but… at least they're trying. I hope you know that if they do end up getting a divorce, they'll both still love you very much. Their problems have nothing to do with you. None of this is _your_ fault."

"I know," Leslie said. She felt like crying, but then she took a deep breath and calmed herself down. Aunt May Belle put her hand on Leslie's cheek and smiled. "It's gonna be okay, sweetie. I know it's hard, but it's gonna be okay." She took her hand away and tousled Leslie's hair.

"Aunt May Belle, can I ask you something about Leslie Burke?"

"Sure. Anything you want."

"In Dad's book, he only hinted at what he really went through after she died. What really happened?"

"I was surprised when he told me that he was writing a book about her and himself. Leslie Burke is a very personal and painful subject to him. But, I'd have also been surprised if he _didn't_ write about her. You have to understand that when they met, your daddy was a very lonely and introverted young boy – a boy with great artistic talent, but very low self-esteem. Joyce and I worshipped him, but there's only so much that adoring little sisters can do. Jess was in desperate need of a friend – someone his own age. And he found her. And I'll always be grateful to Leslie Burke for what she did for him. He used to think that he was just a dumb 'ol farm boy, not worth much. Leslie brought him into her secret world and made him feel so good about himself. She really did make him a king, and he loved being her king, though he never thought himself worthy of such an honor. When she died, he was absolutely devastated. He blamed himself. I think he still carries some of that guilt with him. I know he's been struggling with depression on and off since Leslie died. I can't believe it's been thirty years."

"What happened after he made you the new queen of Terabithia?"

That lasted about a couple of years. Oh, I loved it so much. We brought Joyce in and made her the princess. She got a big kick out of that! But… it didn't take away the pain. Now and then, your daddy would wake us up in the middle of the night, screaming in his sleep. Sometimes he'd cry in his sleep. And when he wasn't sleeping, the sadness would just overwhelm him at times. Some mornings, he just didn't want to get out of bed. If it wasn't a school day, your Grandma and Grandpa would leave him be. Sooner or later, he'd get up on his own, but only because he didn't want to stick Joyce and me with his chores. When Jess was twelve, we both knew that he was too old to be playing Terabithia with his little sisters. He still went out there alone, though. The first few times, I followed him secretly. I was terrified something bad was going to happen to him. I even got the idea that he might try to kill himself there so he could be with Leslie Burke in heaven. Stupid I know, but hey, I was only nine years old then. Nothing bad ever happened to him. I think he found peace there. In his book, he mentions the time I told him how I followed him and Leslie to Terabithia and spied on them. They were so secretive about where they went and what they did there that I _had_ to follow them. I saw them swing on the rope over the creek bed to a clearing on the other side where Jess had built them a ramshackle playhouse out of scrap wood – that was their castle. Since they'd been so secretive about it, I thought they might start kissing each other or something, but they didn't. They seemed so… well, peaceful there - and happy, huddled together in their playhouse. It was like their own slice of heaven. Leslie Burke was right when she told your daddy they needed a place just for them."

"Wow."

"They were real soul mates, those two. You could tell that what they had went way beyond being best friends. To me, Leslie Burke was like a ray of sunshine. She could show you the way and warm you up inside at the same time. She had to be the smartest girl I'd ever known. Her plan to get even with Janice Avery for stealing my Twinkies was brilliant. But Leslie was also very kind. She really cared about people, even Janice, when she found out how her daddy was beating her. Your father once told me that there was too much cruelty in the world, and what it needed was more people like Leslie Burke. He was absolutely right."

"Sounds like some deep conversation here." It was Aunt Joyce.

"We were talking about Leslie Burke," said Aunt May Belle.

"Do you remember her, Aunt Joyce?" Leslie asked.

"Well, I was only four years old at the time, but I have some memories. I have one very clear memory of Leslie Burke and your daddy together. I was sitting on the back porch, waiting for May Belle to come outside, when I saw Leslie and your daddy come walking toward the house. They had gone off somewhere before – to Terabithia, no doubt – and they had come back. They were talking – I don't remember what about – but they were talking and laughing about _something_. Then they stopped talking and just… stared at each other for a while. They were both smiling. Oh! They way they were smiling, it was like they were in love with each other. I thought they were going to just stand there and smile at each other forever. Then they said goodbye. I thought they were going to shake hands, but then, they kind of awkwardly half-hugged each other. Then it slowly turned into a full hug. Then they smiled again, even more beautifully than before. They just stood there for a little while, holding each other and smiling. I felt myself smiling, too. Then they saw me looking at them… and shot out of each other's arms like two bullet trains!"

"Caught in the act!" Aunt May Belle chimed.

"Then Leslie took off for her house in that graceful run of hers. I thought Jess was going to yell at me for spying on him. He gave me one of those you're-in-big-trouble looks. I thought I was really in for it, but then Jess laughed, scooped me up in his arms and gave me a kiss. Then he gave me a piggyback ride into the house."

"That's an awesome memory, Aunt Joyce," said Leslie.

Grandma came into the living room. She was wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Dinner's all ready," she said.

While they ate, Aunt May Belle and Aunt Joyce did most of the talking, telling Grandma and Grandpa about what was going on with their husbands and kids. Leslie didn't mind. She was too busy wolfing down Grandma's succulent, delectable fried chicken. And the mashed potatoes with gravy, the buttermilk biscuits, and the salad. And there was homemade peach cobbler for dessert!

Leslie was also thinking about her parents and Leslie Burke. There were many thoughts swirling about in her head. One thing was for sure:

She would _not_ forget to call Jamie tonight.

She needed to hear his voice.


	5. Chapter 5

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 5: The Enchanted Cove

After her aunts had left and she had helped Grandma wash the dishes, Leslie asked if she could call Jamie on the kitchen phone. It was cordless, so she took the receiver off the base and brought it into her room. Then she closed the door, kicked off her shoes, and plopped down on her bed. She punched in Jamie's number, and the phone rang.

"Hello?" It was a male voice, but not Jamie's, and too young to be Mr. Byrne's.

"Hi, um, Zack? This is Leslie Aarons. Is Jamie there?"

"Yeah, hold on. HEY, DOOFUS – YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S ON THE PHONE!"

There were some clicking sounds, then Jamie said, "I got it – hang up, _Zackass!_"

Leslie thought she heard his mother yell at him.

"Jamie?"

"Hi, Leslie! Sorry about that. We can talk now - I'm in my room. Let me close the door. There, that's better. What's up?"

"My aunts came for dinner."

"Which ones?"

"Aunt May Belle and Aunt Joyce."

"Cool! Did you tell them about me?"

"Yeah. Aunt May Belle said your uncle told her he thinks you have a lot of talent on the keyboard."

"That's why they call me Elton Jamie, love." he said in a British accent.

Leslie laughed. Then she sighed and said "I asked them about Leslie Burke."

"What did they say?"

"A lot. You know, Aunt Joyce remembers her and my dad, and she was only four years old back then. There's so much more I want to ask Dad about, but… he won't be back for almost two weeks. He and Mom went…"

There was a moment of silence, then Jamie asked "Where? Where did they go?"

"Oh… uh, it doesn't matter. What do you want to do tomorrow? Maybe we could meet by the tree stump or something and hang out."

"Maybe. Or, perchance thou wouldst care to join me for a swim in the waters of the enchanted lake?"

"Lake? What lake?"

"Well, creek actually. But it's so big that you'd think it _was_ a lake."

"What creek? What are you talking about?"

"Lark Creek. The creek this town was named after, remember?"

"Wait… you want me to swim in the creek where Leslie Burke drowned?"

"Oh no, she didn't drown in the big creek. She drowned in one of many tiny inlets around here that the creek feeds into – the one near Terabithia. Ask your aunts if you don't believe me."

"I believe you, it's just that… whenever I think of creeks…"

"If it bothers you, we don't have to go swimming. It's no problem. We can do something else."

"This creek… is it safe to swim in? Is it clean?"

"Sure! Lots of folks go swimming there – and fishing, too. The water's real fresh. If someone got caught dumping stuff in any part of the creek, they'd be in big trouble. The laws are real strict about that. And folks around here keep a close eye on the creek."

"Well… okay. Let's go swimming!"

"Great! Meet me tomorrow morning at the tree stump around 9AM."

"We're walking there? How far away is the creek?"

"Just a couple of miles. It's not that far a walk. I always walk there, because Dad works and Mom has to take Zack to baseball camp and then run her errands. We _could_ ask your grandpa to drive us, I guess – if you want."

"No, I don't mind walking."

"Okay, then we shall enjoy a long stroll through the shire, milady! And, I will prepare us a sumptuous meal for lunch. We'll have a picnic by the creek!"

"Cool! You can cook?"

"Well… I may not be getting my own show on the Food Network anytime soon, but I think I can put together a nice picnic lunch."

"Are you sure? I could make us something to eat."

"No, 'tis _my_ invitation, milady – _I_ shall prepare our midday feast."

"Okay. You can't say I didn't offer to help."

"I shan't."

"Okay, then - I'll meet you tomorrow morning!"

"I shall arrive on my white stallion, fair maiden! Until then, I shall see thee in my dreams."

Leslie giggled. "Okay. Goodnight, good knight!"

Jamie laughed heartily. "Goodnight, milady!"

After she hung up the phone, Leslie brought the receiver back into the kitchen and returned it to its base.

As she walked back to her room, Leslie felt a current of excitement flow through her veins. She couldn't wait until tomorrow. She hoped there wouldn't be a lot of other people at the creek. She wanted to be alone with Jamie. Maybe then, she could tell him about -

Suddenly, Leslie stopped in her tracks. _Oh, no!_ She thought. _Did I pack a bathing suit?_

Leslie tore open the door to her room and headed straight to her suitcase. When she'd packed it, all she had on her mind was her parents and their problems. Maybe she _didn't_ pack a bathing suit! Maybe she didn't think she'd be doing any swimming in Lark Creek. Maybe…

Leslie ransacked her suitcase, tearing her way through shirts, shorts, her underwear, her good dress, her good jeans, her socks, and –

And then she saw it - the navy blue of her school bathing suit on the bottom of the suitcase, under her good shoes. She took it out and unfolded it. Leslie's navy blue, one-piece bathing suit had the logo of her private school on the left breast. Every year, students got a new bathing suit as part of their gym uniform. It was the only suit they were allowed to wear in the pool. It wasn't the prettiest or the most stylish bathing suit to be sure, but it would do.

Leslie looked at all the clothes that were scattered around her. It looked like a tornado had plowed through her room. She cleaned up the mess and repacked her clothes neatly, except for her bathing suit, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and a pair of socks. She would wear the shirt and shorts over her bathing suit, then take them off when she and Jamie got to the creek.

Later that night, as she climbed into bed, Leslie was both excited and nervous about going swimming with Jamie. She never swam in a creek before. She knew that Jamie would be there, and he wouldn't let anything happen to her. But at the same time, she couldn't help but think about Leslie Burke. It got to the point where she had trouble falling asleep. Finally, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let herself be lulled by the music of the cicadas outside her window.

The next morning, the sound of her grandpa's old pickup truck once again woke Leslie. A smell crept in under her door. It wasn't pancakes and sausage this time, but whatever it was, it smelled good. She got out of bed and put on her fuzzy pink slippers.

"Morning, Grandma," Leslie said as she walked into the kitchen.

"Morning, honey," said Grandma.

Grandma had something cooking on the stove. Leslie went to have a look. It was a big pot of oatmeal. Grandma stirred in a scoop of brown sugar. She let it cook for a couple more minutes, then took it off the stove. She brought the pot over to the table, where she filled up three bowls with the hot cereal. Then she put the pot in the sink. When she came back to the table, she took the lid off the butter tray and cut three pats of butter. She put one butter pat on top of each bowl.

So _that's_ what Dad meant when he talked about Southern-style oatmeal, Leslie thought.

Outside, the pickup truck's motor went off. Then Grandpa came in for breakfast.

"Morning," he said to Leslie, and smiled.

The oatmeal was heavenly – the best Leslie ever had. After they finished eating, Grandma poured coffee for herself and Grandpa. Then she sat down to drink it.

"Grandma?"

"Eh?"

"Jamie invited me to go swimming with him today. Can I go?"

Grandma and Grandpa looked at each other. Then Grandma said, "Swimming? He has a pool, does he?"

"No, we're going to the creek – the big creek."

"Creek?" Grandpa asked. "You don't mean that place where the Burke girl…"

"No, no, not there! The big creek, that's what Jamie calls it. He said it's just a couple miles away from here. He goes swimming there all the time. He says people go fishing there, too. Isn't that where you went with Mr. Henshaw yesterday?"

"Oh… oh yeah, well, the best fishing's a ways down from there. When folks go swimming, they scare away the fish with all that splashing around."

"So… can I go?"

Grandpa said nothing. He looked at Grandma. She looked worried.

"Well I know folks go swimming down there. Your daddy went there after he learned to swim. Just… please, _please_ promise me that you'll be careful. If something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

"I promise. And don't worry – Jamie will be with me, and he's a great swimmer. And I'm a pretty good swimmer myself!"

"You got a bathing suit?"

"Sure, I packed one."

"How long you gonna be out there?"

"I'm meeting Jamie around 9. Then we're going to walk over there. He's making us a picnic lunch, so I probably won't be back till this afternoon."

"Oh, you're going to have a picnic. And _he's_ making the lunch? I think someone has a little crush on you."

"Grandma…"

"Well, you go out and have fun – but mind what I told you. And don't go in the water for an hour after you eat."

"Okay. Thanks, Grandma."

Even though it was only 7:30, Leslie decided to get an early start. There was no point in showering _before_ swimming in a creek, so she just washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair. Then she put on her bathing suit. It fit just fine, though she wasn't crazy about the school logo on it. She looked herself over in the mirror. She had a few more years to go before the Figure Fairy would pay her a visit. She wasn't in any hurry to grow up, but lately, she felt like she was growing up fast – just like all the other kids her age whose parents were about to divorce.

Leslie sighed. As she put on her shirt and shorts, she promised herself that she would try to forget her troubles and have fun with Jamie. He was the only friend she had here. Heck, he was the only _real_ friend she had - period. And sooner or later, she'd have to leave him behind and go back to Washington. She felt a wave of sadness rise to the surface, but she forced it back down. Then she put her socks and sneakers on.

She thought it would be best to leave at 8:45. After grabbing a towel from the linen closet and saying goodbye to her grandparents, she headed out to meet Jamie. As she walked down the road toward the woods, she didn't give a second thought to the path that led to Terabithia. She walked right past it on her way to the woods.

When Leslie found the left hand path that led directly into the woods, she followed it. Soon, the big tree stump came into view. She smiled and ran to it. She looked around, but Jamie wasn't there. She looked up, but he wasn't sitting on his high branch in the oak tree, either. She looked up at the other trees around her. He wasn't in any one of them.

Leslie waited for several minutes, then checked her watch. It said 9:05. What if Jamie had forgotten he was supposed to meet her here? She decided to go to his house. She got up off the tree stump and went to leave.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.

Leslie screamed and turned around, her heart racing.

It was Jamie. He smiled at her.

"Did I startle thee, milady?"

"No… you scared the heck out of me!"

"My most sincere apologies."

Jamie wore a white t-shirt and navy blue swim trunks that matched Leslie's bathing suit. But there was no logo on them. He had a towel slung over his shoulder, and a wicker basket in one hand.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Yup."

Leslie followed Jamie as he led her past the sand pit, through the woods again, and up the hill to the street where he lived.

"We could have met at your house," said Leslie.

"I was afraid you might get lost."

"I think I can find my way now."

They walked down Jamie's street, then he turned right, and Leslie followed him onto another road. This one led out of the neighborhood and onto the main road.

"Just follow me, keep to the side, and watch for cars," Jamie said.

There weren't any cars on the road right then, but Leslie knew enough to stay on the side anyway, just to be safe.

The road had many twists and turns. Jamie led them up and down steep hills, and around sharp curves. It was a two-lane road, but really only wide enough for one big lane. Leslie wondered how two cars could possibly share it.

The walk took them past a big farm with enough land for both a big cornfield and a large pasture where a dozen cows were grazing, chewing their cuds, or swatting flies with their tails. A couple of cows looked at Leslie and Jamie. Jamie waved at them and let out a loud, braying moo. One of the cows mooed back at him, and Leslie broke up laughing.

After they passed the farm's tall corn silos, Leslie asked, "How much farther is it?"

"We're almost there."

In the distance ahead, Leslie could see part of a bridge peeking out on the left. When they came to a fork in the road, Jamie turned left. He led her toward the bridge. When they reached it, Leslie heard a whooshing sound, and smelled the earthy perfume of fresh water. They crossed the bridge, and Jamie headed off the road and into a woodsy area on the left.

There was a path that led down a steep hill. As they followed it, the whooshing sound grew louder. Finally, they came out of the trees and onto –

A beach! Well, a small beach, but more than big enough for the two of them. The creek spread out surprisingly wide in this small area, and flowed to the left. Leslie gasped at what she saw on the far right – a waterfall! That's where the whooshing sound had come from. It wasn't a huge waterfall – maybe eight feet tall by thirty feet wide – but it was a strong one. The water whooshed down real fast into a foamy pool at the bottom. That earthy perfume, the smell of fresh, clean water, was strong and sweet here.

Leslie surveyed all of the bucolic surroundings. The place was like a little slice of heaven. Her father and Leslie Burke must have felt the same way about Terabithia.

"Welcome to the Enchanted Cove, milady! What do you think?"

"I love it!"

Jamie put down his picnic basket and pulled open the handles. He fished out the picnic blanket, which was neatly folded. He opened it up and spread it out, then put the basket on top of it. The blanket looked like it was made of plastic.

"It's vinyl," Jamie said. "Easy to clean."

Jamie took off his shirt, socks, and shoes, and arranged them in a neat pile on the blanket. Leslie did the same with her clothes and shoes. Then she saw that Jamie was staring at her and smiling impishly.

"What are you looking at? Haven't you seen a girl in a bathing suit before?"

"Yes, but none as lovely as thee, milady."

"Jamie…"

"What's that?" He asked, pointing at the logo. "Capital Academy?"

"That's the private school I go to in Washington. You get a bathing suit as part of your school uniform. It's the only one they'll let you wear in the pool. With all that's going on, I thought I forgot to pack a bathing suit. I'm glad I didn't."

"Bathing suits or birthday suits, it's all the same to me," Jamie said.

"Excuse me? I'll take bathing suits, if you don't mind!"

"As you wish, milady. Let's go in!"

Jamie took a running dive into the water. Leslie walked in carefully, making sure not to cut her feet on rocks or anything else that might be on the bottom of the creek. Then she dove underwater.

An icy wave shot through her body like a spear. Leslie broke through the surface of the water and retreated until she was barely waist deep. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly. Jamie's head popped up farther out in the creek. He turned to look at Leslie, then he swam toward her.

"You okay, Leslie?"

"Cold!" Leslie squeaked through her chattering teeth. "Ohmigod, it's so cold! Ohmigod!"

"Yeah, isn't it great?"

"How can it b-be so c-cold when it's l-like nuh-ninety degrees outside?"

"We're under a bridge and surrounded by trees. Not much sun gets in to warm up the water."

"Look at my arms, they're covered in goose bumps," Leslie said, holding them out. Jamie swam over, then walked up to her in the water. He looked at her arms and said, "I can fix that."

Jamie ran his hands up and down Leslie's arms. The friction warmed her arms and made the goose bumps recede. But she was still shivering.

"Put your arms around me like you're giving me a hug," Jamie said.

"What?"

"Just do it. Trust me."

Leslie did, and he drew her into a full hug. "There. Let my body warm yours."

Jamie felt surprisingly warm, even though he'd been swimming in the same cold water.

Leslie looked into his beautiful blue eyes. They seemed to glow with the warmth of a blue flame. Gradually, Leslie's shivers subsided. Her heart stopped racing and slowed to a comfortable pulse. Her breaths grew shallow and easy.

Time seemed to stop for them. Leslie felt a deep longing that gnawed at her insides. She wished she could stay like this forever. Here, her parents' problems didn't exist. Here, there was no loneliness, no sorrow. Here, she was warm and safe and perfect.

A crow cawed in the distance, snapping Leslie out of her trance. She was still wrapped up in Jamie's strong, warm embrace – and acutely aware of her surroundings. Jamie smiled at her, but said nothing. She felt herself blush.

"Jamie…"

"Hmm?"

"What if somebody sees us… like this."

"Then I'll thrash the knave for spying on us."

"My noble knight… I'm warm now. You can let go."

"As you wish."

Jamie let her go.

"Let me try and get used to the water."

It took a little while, but soon, Leslie got used to the cold water and swam around the creek with Jamie.

"Let's go by the waterfall," he said.

The current was strong, but not strong enough to keep them from swimming up to the waterfall. The whooshing sound was so loud Leslie could barely hear herself think. She reached up and felt the power of the cascading water.

"Stick your head in! It's really cool!"

Leslie watched Jamie do it, then she followed suit. It was like taking a shower – times a thousand! Suddenly, something thunked her on the head.

Something alive and slimy.

Leslie shrieked and pulled her head out. She swatted away whatever had hit her. She looked at Jamie. He was trying to suppress a laugh.

"What was that?"

"Just a fish – a trout, I think."

"Ewwww!!"

Leslie shuddered, dunked her head underwater, and tried to wash away all traces of the slimy invader. Jamie roared with laughter.

"It's not funny!"

"This _is_ a creek, you know."

"I know! It's still gross!"

"Come on, let's go back and have lunch. I'm hungry."

"Me, too."

Leslie was glad to get back to the little beach and the picnic blanket. Jamie unpacked their lunch. There were two sandwiches in Ziploc bags, a bag of corn chips, and two thick slices of seedless watermelon. There was a coffee thermos filled with iced tea. Jamie had also brought paper plates for the sandwiches and plastic cups. He put one of the sandwiches on a plate and handed it to Leslie.

"Peanut butter and jelly on hundred-percent whole wheat," he said, and poured her some iced tea. The sandwich was delicious. Leslie was a peanut butter freak and she loved wheat bread. The jelly was good, too. Not grape, but very good – better than grape, she thought.

"What kind of jelly did you use?"

"Blackberry. It's better than grape on peanut butter."

They munched on the corn chips, then Jamie handed her a slice of watermelon. It was so juicy and delicious – and refreshing.

After they finished eating, Jamie packed up their trash in the basket. Then he stretched out on the blanket. Leslie stretched out next to him. She rested her head on his chest.

"Grandma said not to go in the water for an hour after you eat."

"That's a myth. Nothing would happen if we went right in. But I feel like a rest, anyway."

"Me, too. Jamie?"

"What?"

"If I told you a secret, would you promise never to tell anyone?"

"I would guard your secret with my life, milady. But there are some secrets that you shouldn't keep."

"This one I _have_ to keep. It's about my parents, and why I'm here in Lark Creek."

"Okay," Jamie said. His blue eyes blazed with intensity. "What is it?"

"My parents might be getting a divorce. I'm staying here with my grandparents while they… work things out."

"Things? Like who gets custody of you?"

"No. They're off at some marriage retreat to see if they want to stay together or not. It's a special retreat for… famous people… who are in trouble."

"That makes sense. At least they're willing to _try_."

"I don't know what I'm gonna do if they divorce."

"They'll still love _you_. You're their daughter."

"I know, but… what would you do if _your_ parents divorced?"

Jamie sighed. His eyes reflected a deep sadness. "To be honest, I probably wouldn't care. I'd want to live with my mom, though – Dad and Zack can have each other."

Leslie felt sorry for him. She wanted to hug him again and warm _him_ up inside like he had done for her. He smiled at her and ran a hand through her hair. "Don't worry. You'll be okay."

They rested for a while before having another swim. Then it was time to leave. They dried off and put their clothes, shoes, and socks back on. Then Jamie packed up the picnic blanket. He made sure nothing was left behind. Then he started up the hill. Leslie followed him, and soon, they were back on the road.

When they got to Jamie's house, he said, "Well, that's it. I thank thee for a lovely outing, milady." He bowed like a proper knight and smiled.

"Thank _you_," Leslie said. "For lunch and… everything."

"You're welcome."

They exchanged a quick hug.

Then Leslie took off running. She ran across the street, through the trees, and down the hill into the woods.

As she walked home, Leslie couldn't help but think of her father and Leslie Burke. Now she was beginning to understand how he felt about her.


	6. Chapter 6

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 6: The Gentleman Of The House

As soon as Leslie closed the front door behind her, she heard her grandmother cry, "Oh! She just walked in!" Grandma came into the living room and handed her the phone. "It's your daddy," she said, smiling.

"Dad! How are you? How's Mom?"

"We're fine, sweetheart. Here, let me put you on speaker."

"Hi, honey!" Mom chimed.

"Hi, Mom."

"How are you holding up?" Dad asked.

"Okay."

"We're calling from the office – the retreat leaders' office. Grandma told us that Aunt May Belle explained to you what the retreat is. You know, what we're doing here. We didn't want to tell you because we didn't want you to get your hopes up."

"I know, Dad. How's it going?"

"It just got started. It's… very interesting. It's also beautiful up here. We have a great view of the mountains from our cabin. We've got fresh air, peace and quiet, everything we need."

"Cool."

"Leslie," Mom said. "Your father and I are going to try our best, but… sometimes that's not good enough. What I'm trying to say is… if… if we decide to split up, we'll both still love you very much. That will never change."

"And it wouldn't mean that we'd hate each other, either," Dad added. "Sometimes, when couples break up, it's a very bitter divorce. They can't let go of their hurt feelings, and they use their children to keep hurting each other. They just… hate each other. That would never, ever happen with us. I could never hate your mother."

"And I could never hate your father," Mom agreed.

"I know," Leslie said.

"We heard you made a friend," said Dad. "What was her name? Jamie, right?"

"No, _his_ name is Jamie. He's a boy."

"A boy?" Mom asked. "Is he cute?"

"Mom…"

"Well… we're glad you made a friend."

"So am I," Leslie agreed. _Because I don't have any at that stupid school,_ she wanted to add, but didn't. Her problems were nothing compared to what her parents were going through.

"Did you go out there?" Dad asked. "To Terabithia, I mean."

"No. I've just been hanging out with Jamie. And before you ask, he already knows about Terabithia, and he's been there."

"You told him you're my daughter, eh?"

"He figured that out when I told him my name. But it's not a big deal to him. He treats me like a real person." _He's not a phony like the kids at school,_ she wanted to say, but she kept her anger in check.

"He sounds like a great kid. Well… we can't talk much longer. We snuck into the office during break time, and that's almost over. This is supposed to be an isolated retreat, so the couples have nothing to distract them. There are no phones in the cabins, cell phones don't work up here, and this office phone is supposed to be for emergencies only. Grandma and Grandpa have the number in case they need to contact us in an emergency."

"You might not hear from us in quite a while," said Mom. "But we'll be thinking about you."

"We love you," said Dad.

"I love you guys, too."

"Bye, honey."

"Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Leslie gave the phone back to Grandma.

"What did they say?"

"Not much. They didn't really have time to talk. They just said that they started the retreat, they love me, you have the office phone number in case of an emergency…"

"I told them about your friend. Did you like swimming in the creek?"

"Yeah, it was okay. I'm going to take a shower and change clothes."

"All right, dear."

Leslie stood under the hot water, letting it cleanse and soothe her. But there was an ache deep inside her that the water would never be able to soothe. She remembered her parents' words and how she struggled to contain her anger. Part of her wanted to scream at them:

_You never listen to me! I told you I hated that school, and you didn't listen! You __**never**__ listen! Not to me, and not to each other. Did you ever think maybe __**that's**__ why you've been having problems? Why don't you listen? For once in your lives, just __**listen!**_

Once again, Leslie felt like a deflating balloon, but an air of defiance filled her back up. She would not let her feelings about her parents ruin one of the best days of her life. Being with Jamie at the Enchanted Cove was something she'd never forget. She wished she were back there now, safe and warm in Jamie's arms.

_He_ listened to her. He had his own troubles, but still, _he_ listened to her.

After she dried off and changed clothes, Leslie brushed her hair, staring blankly at her reflection in the old mirror once used by her father and his little sisters.

At dinner, she didn't say much. Grandpa asked her about her day. She told him she had fun swimming with Jamie, and that he'd made them a nice picnic lunch. But she didn't give Grandpa any details. All he and Grandma needed to know was that she and Jamie had fun and practiced safety at the creek.

"Glad you enjoyed yourself," said Grandpa. "You won't be doing much swimming for a while. Rain's coming in tomorrow, and it won't let up for a couple days. Weather should be good for the Fourth, though."

The Fourth of July. Somehow, Leslie had forgotten about Independence Day, even though she lived in Washington, D.C. and always watched the fireworks with her parents. This would be her first Independence Day without them. She didn't know if there were fireworks in Lark Creek, and she didn't feel like asking. Somehow, it didn't seem to matter.

Leslie watched the Nationals game on TV with Grandpa. With the Mets leading 9-1 after the seventh inning stretch, Leslie figured she might as well go to bed. She changed into her nightgown, which was basically an oversized t-shirt that went down to her knees. It had loud, tacky pink lettering on the front that said _Superstar! _As she got into bed and pulled up the covers, she wondered how her parents were sleeping in their cabin. She doubted there would be two beds in each cabin at a marriage retreat. They would be sleeping in the same bed for the first time in a long while.

The next morning, it was a rumble of thunder, not Grandpa's old pickup truck that woke Leslie. She yawned, got out of bed, and went to the window. Dark clouds hung in the sky like dead gray ornaments, spewing ribbons of rain. Grandpa was right – she and Jamie wouldn't be doing much swimming today, and probably not tomorrow, either.

For breakfast, Grandma made scrambled eggs, bacon, and hot buttered grits. They were delicious, but Leslie didn't have much of an appetite. She was halfheartedly chewing on a piece of bacon when the phone rang. Grandma answered it.

"Hello? Oh, hello! Leslie told us about you! She's right here. Leslie, it's your little friend, Jamie."

Leslie cringed at the _little friend_ remark and practically yanked the phone out of Grandma's hand.

"Hi, Jamie!"

"Good morning, milady! Shall we enjoy the pleasure of each other's company again today? Alas, the rain will keep us away from the Enchanted Cove. So come spend the day with me at my castle! Or I could come to yours."

Leslie covered the speaker with her hand. "Can I go over to Jamie's house?"

"Why don't you invite him here?" Grandma asked.

"Um… he has a computer, and I want to check my e-mail."

"Oh. All right, then."

"I shall arrive at your cas – uh, I'll be at your house around 9," she told Jamie.

"I will count the minutes to your arrival, milady. Fair thee well!"

"Fair – uh, bye!"

Leslie's appetite returned with a vengeance. She wolfed down the rest of her breakfast, then gulped her orange juice. It was just after 7:30, so she had plenty of time to get ready.

After she showered and dressed, Leslie went into the kitchen, where her grandparents were drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

"Grandma, do you have a pair of boots I could wear – rain boots, I mean – and an umbrella?"

"Are you planning on walking in this rain?"

"I'll drive you," Grandpa offered.

"No, I like walking in the rain."

"You'll catch a cold, dear."

"No I won't."

"Well, if you must walk in the rain, look in the hall closet, and you'll find what you need."

In the closet, Leslie found a pair of old boots and an umbrella. The boots were a little too big for her feet, but better than nothing. The umbrella was old too – it was a little girl's Barbie umbrella, clear plastic except for the lettering and graphics.

"Okay Grandma, I'm leaving."

"Let me take a look at you. Hey, that's your Aunt May Belle's old umbrella! She and your Aunt Joyce used to share it."

"Well, bye."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know. We might have lunch. Maybe this afternoon."

"You sure you don't want me to drive you?" Grandpa asked.

"I'm sure. Thanks anyway, Grandpa. Bye!"

The rain was steady, but not hard. Leslie loved hearing it patter on her umbrella. She was careful to avoid muddy areas in the woods. She couldn't run through the rain for fear of slipping and falling, so she walked briskly. She passed the tree stump and the sand pit. Finally, she made it up the hill and through the trees to Jamie's street. When she reached his front porch, she closed her umbrella. Before she could knock on the door, it opened.

"Welcome, milady!" Jamie beamed. They went inside. Jamie put her umbrella on the floor near an arrangement of shoes, while Leslie slipped off her boots.

"How did you know I was there?"

"I was watching from the window. I saw you cross the street."

"Is anybody home?"

"Nope. Just us. Dad's at work, and Mom took Zack to baseball camp."

"But it's raining."

"They have an indoor diamond for when it rains. They can still practice pitching, throwing and catching drills, and bunting. And there's a batting cage for batting practice."

"Oh. Um… your mom won't be mad that I came over when nobody's home… will she?"

"No, she won't care, as long as we don't wreck the house or anything. Will your grandparents be mad when they find out we were alone?"

"I don't know. I better not tell them. You know how grandparents are."

"Yeah. Old fashioned."

They went to Jamie's room. When Leslie saw his computer, she asked if she could use it.

"Sure! You want to check your e-mail?"

"Yeah. You have broadband?"

"Yup. All our computers are connected to cable through wireless routers."

"Cool."

Jamie turned on his computer and flat screen monitor.

"XP?" Leslie asked.

"That's what it came with when I got it. It also came with a 1.6 gig Pentium processor, 1 gig of RAM, a 160-gig hard drive, and a nice video card. I'm thinking of upping the RAM to 2 gigs. An extra 1-gig chip is only like fifty bucks. Less if you shop around."

On Jamie's desktop, a line of musical notes hovered over a piano keyboard. Leslie clicked on Internet Explorer. The Roadrunner home page came up. Leslie had a different provider, so she typed in the URL and hit Enter. Then she went into web mail and typed in her e-mail address and password.

Jamie brought over his keyboard chair so he could sit next to Leslie at the computer.

"What did you get?"

"Nothing much. I told my pen pals I'd be at my grandparents' house and away from my computer for a long time."

"You have pen pals?"

"A long time ago, I put my e-mail address on a pen pal site for kids. I used to have seven pen pals in five different countries, but now I have only two."

"The others don't write to you anymore? I know how that is. I tried a pen pal site once, but none of the pen pals I made write to me anymore. I guess they got bored with me."

"Maybe the same thing happened with mine. I never told any of them that I was Jess Aarons' daughter. Maybe I should have, but then I'd be just another phony."

"Phony?"

"Never mind. Hey! Do you like to chat online?"

"Sure. I do that sometimes."

"I use Chatterbox."

"I've got that – look under Programs in the Start menu."

Leslie found the program's name and clicked on it. Then she brought up the IRC menu and clicked Add Nick. She typed in Leslie0427 and her password. Then she selected an Undernet server from the server list and clicked the Log On button.

"Undernet?" Jamie asked. "I've only been to a couple rooms on EFnet."

"You'll like this one. Trust me."

_Welcome, Leslie0427_

"What does the 0427 mean?"

"That's my birth date, April 27th."

"No way!"

"I think I know my own birthday, Jamie."

"That's _my_ birthday, too!"

"No way! You're kidding, right?"

"On my honor, milady."

"That is _so_ awesome!"

The computer beeped. The chat server was waiting for a command.

Leslie typed in /NAMES #Terabithia and hit the Enter key.

(JoshsGrrl), (Hoser11)

"Good, only two. JoshsGrrl is Emma from Dorset, England. She has a huge crush on Josh Hutcherson. Hoser11 is Doug from Ottawa, Canada. There are seven regulars, including me. We don't use last names, and nobody knows that I'm Jess Aarons' daughter."

Leslie typed in /JOIN #Terabithia and hit Enter.

_Leslie0427 joins the chat._

(Leslie0427) Hi

(JoshsGrrl) Leslie!!

(Hoser11) How's it going, eh! :)

(JoshsGrrl) What happened? U said U were going away on holiday and would be offline all summer.

(Leslie0427) I did go away. I'm staying with my grandparents. I'm on my friend's computer. He's letting me use it.

(JoshsGrrl) He? Got a boyfriend, have you? Is he cute?

(Leslie0427) Em! He's sitting right next to me!

Jamie snickered.

(Hoser11) LOL

(JoshsGrrl) Hello, whoever you are.

(Leslie0427) His name's Jamie.

"Jamie, type something. Say hello."

(Leslie0427) Hi, I'm Jamie. Nice 2 meet U.

(Hoser11) Likewise.

(JoshsGrrl) Hello. How long have U 2 been friends?

(Leslie0427) We met a couple days ago. I live near Leslie's grandparents here in Lark Creek, VA.

"Jamie, no!"

"Oops. Sorry."

(Hoser11) Lark Creek, VA? The Lark Creek?

(JoshsGrrl) OMG!! Did you go there? Did you see it?

(Leslie0427) I'm back. See what?

(JoshsGrrl) TERABITHIA!!

(Hoser11) The REAL Terabithia!

(Leslie0427) I've been there.

(JoshsGrrl) OMG, what was it like?

Leslie thought for a moment and typed in:

(Leslie0427) A solemn place. Like sacred ground.

(JoshsGrrl) Wow! U R so lucky!

(Hoser11) Cool! The Queen returns!

(JoshsGrrl) Tell me more about Jamie.

(Leslie0427) Uh… well, he's my age. Maybe a wee bit taller. He's got dark brown hair and blue eyes…

(JoshsGrrl) He sounds cute! Have you snogged him yet?

"I don't believe her," Leslie grumbled.

Jamie snickered. "I'm guessing that _snog_ means kiss."

_Leslie0427 groans and rolls her eyes._

(JoshsGrrl) She snogged him.

(Leslie0427) Emma, I'm going to kill you.

(Hoser11) ROFL

(Leslie0427) That's it, I'm out of here. It might be a long time before I chat with you guys again.

(Hoser11) Bye. Have a good one.

(JoshsGrrl) Bye, Leslie. Take care. You too, love.

_JoshsGrrl blows Jamie a kiss_

Jamie pretended to catch the kiss and paste it on his cheek.

"Oh, very funny!" Leslie said. Then she typed in /LEAVE #Terabithia and hit Enter. She closed the IRC window, then the program.

"They seemed nice."

"Yeah, they're okay. Most of the time."

Leslie got up to stretch her legs. She walked around a little, then flopped down on Jamie's bed. She motioned for him to join her, and moved over to make room.

"Tired?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah," Leslie said, and rested her head on his chest. "Mom and Dad called yesterday."

"How are they?"

"They just started their retreat."

"What did they say?"

"You know, the usual. If we get a divorce it's not your fault, we'll always love you, yatta-yatta-yatta."

"You think they'll divorce?"

"They didn't sound too hopeful."

"You don't sound too hopeful, either."

"Why hope for something that probably won't happen?"

"You _gotta_ have hope, or you'll go crazy. Just hope for the best and be prepared for the worst."

"Well… the worst wouldn't be _that_ bad, I guess. I know they'd still love me. I'd have to live in two different houses. It would be a pain at first, but I'd get used to it. I just don't want to. Is it too much to ask that they _not_ divorce? I thought that when people get married, they promise to stay together through good times and bad, in sickness and in health. You know, till death do us part?"

"I guess sometimes that's a hard promise to keep."

"I just wish I knew what their problem was. If I did, maybe I could help them. But they don't say anything. They don't even yell at each other. I've never heard them fight. With them, it's just silence. That's worse than yelling."

"Would you really want them to start yelling at each other in front of you?"

"No, but at least I'd know what their problem was."

"I think it's something they have to work out for themselves. Or at least, _try_ to work out."

"I know."

Jamie put his arm around Leslie and held her close. She felt the gnawing ache in her stomach again. She was in that wonderful place where time stopped and her problems didn't exist. She was safe here.

"You know what?" Leslie asked.

"What?"

"You're the best friend I ever had. And the only _real_ friend I've ever had."

"What about your friends at school?"

"They're not my friends, they're all phonies. They just suck up to me because I'm Jess Aarons' daughter. They don't care about me. I'm just their ticket to popularity. I hate them and I hate that stupid school."

"I know how you feel. Kids are always after me to introduce them to Zack. The boys think I can get him to give them baseball lessons and their teenage sisters want to be his girlfriend. I only get invited to parties because I'm Zack Byrne's baby brother, and if they invite me, maybe he'll come, too. It makes me sick."

"But you must have _some_ friends. You're nice, you're smart, you're a talented musician…"

"Why, thank you, milady! But around here, boys are supposed to play sports, not keyboards. They think I'm a dweeb."

"What about the girls? I bet _they_ like you. With those blue eyes…"

"The girls think I'm a geek. And they're right. I am a geek."

"You are _not_ a geek!"

"Well, your friend Emma liked me. Maybe she'll change her nick to JamiesGrrl!"

"Excuse me? I bet you wish that kiss was real, don't you?"

"I'm kidding. Besides, what girl in her right mind would kiss _me_?"

Leslie stared blankly at Jamie. Something that had been bubbling up inside her since yesterday at the Enchanted Cove suddenly boiled over.

She kissed him.

It was like she'd been seized by something beyond her control.

She _kissed_ him!

Jamie's body tensed up in shock, then surrendered. Leslie felt him return the kiss. His lips were so warm when he pressed them to hers. She had closed her eyes, and in the sweet darkness there was a kaleidoscope of colors, a symphony of music, and the filling warmth of hot cocoa on a cold winter day. And then –

And then she opened her eyes.

Jamie opened his eyes.

When their eyes met, they were rudely jolted back into reality. Jamie got out of bed so fast that he tripped over his feet, but he regained his balance in time to avoid a fall. Leslie tried to get up, but her knees were shaking. Finally, she was able to stand.

They looked at each other awkwardly.

"Um… Leslie… that was…uh…"

"It was… wow…"

"Yeah, uh… um… hey, uh, why don't I make us some lunch? I'm starving."

"Me, too."

Jamie practically ran out of the room. Leslie walked slowly on wobbly knees. She couldn't stop touching her lips and feeling the traces of her first kiss.

In the kitchen, Jamie tossed a few pats of butter into a frying pan on the stove. He had taken out four slices of bread and four cheese slices. He was arranging the bread and cheese slices into two sandwiches when Leslie said:

"Don't forget to take off the wrappers."

"What wrappers?"

"The cheese slice wrappers."

"What? Oh!"

Jamie took apart the sandwiches, peeled off the plastic wrappers from all four cheese slices, and threw them out. Then he put the sandwiches back together. He lightly buttered the tops and bottoms of the bread, then placed the sandwiches carefully in the frying pan. He mashed them with a spatula.

"I hope you like grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Mmm! Love 'em!"

"Could you do me a favor? Take out two plates and two glasses from the cabinet on the right of the sink and put them on the counter here."

"Sure."

"Thanks."

Leslie brought him the plates and glasses. Jamie turned over the sandwiches. The bottoms were golden brown. He mashed down the tops and they sizzled as they cooked.

"Almost done. Oh! Could you get us some napkins? They're in the corner by the breadbox."

Leslie took out two napkins.

"All done!" Jamie chimed. He put a sandwich on each plate, then put the frying pan on a cold burner, and turned off the stove. He took out a small carving knife.

"Vertical or diagonal cut?"

"Diagonal."

"That's how I cut mine!"

Jamie cut their sandwiches in two.

"What would you like to drink? I'm gonna have ginger ale."

"I'll have some, too."

Jamie took the bottle of ginger ale out of the refrigerator and filled their glasses. He put it back, closed the door, then held each glass under the crushed ice dispenser.

They went into the dining room. Leslie was careful not to spill her soda. They sat down at the table and enjoyed a quiet lunch. Which was good, because Leslie didn't feel very talkative. Her head was still spinning a little from the kiss.

After she ate her last bite of sandwich and washed it down with some ginger ale, Leslie thanked Jamie for making her lunch.

"That sandwich was really good."

"Thank you, but it's not over yet," he said. He wiped his mouth on his napkin, got up, and went to the refrigerator. He took out a plastic box and brought it to the table. It was a box of chocolate frosted mini donuts.

"Would Madame care to try our finest after-lunch pastries?" he asked in a French accent.

"Madame would indeed!"

Leslie took out a couple donuts.

She was in the middle of her second donut when she heard a door open.

"Ja-mie!" a voice bellowed. It was his mother's.

"Up here, Mom!"

"Could you help me with the groceries?"

"Okay!"

"I'll help, too," said Leslie.

She followed Jamie downstairs. Instead of opening the front door, he went down the other staircase and turned right, where another door was already open. It led into the garage, where Mrs. Byrne was unpacking grocery bags from her trunk. She looked surprised to see Leslie.

"Oh! Hi, Leslie. I didn't expect to see you here. But then, you kids can't go out and play on a day like this. It's raining like hell out there."

Jamie took a couple of bags. When Leslie took a couple, Mrs. Byrne said, "Well, thank you dear!" She took the remaining bag and closed the trunk.

When they got to the kitchen, Mrs. Byrne sniffed at the air. "What's that smell?"

"I made us grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch."

"You cooked lunch for your little girlfriend? Isn't that sweet!"

"Mom…" Jamie blushed three shades of red. Leslie struggled to suppress a laugh.

"Well, I'm glad there's at least _one_ gentleman in this house."


	7. Chapter 7

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 7: Hopes And Dreams

After Leslie and Jamie helped Mrs. Byrne put the groceries away, they went back to Jamie's room. He put back the chair in front of the keyboard, turned the instrument on, and sat down to play. Leslie got the computer desk chair so she could sit next to him.

Jamie started to play. It was a tender melody, one that Leslie recognized right away.

"Hey, that's _Für Elise_! My music teacher played it for us – the CD, I mean – when we learned about Beethoven. You can play Beethoven?"

"Some Beethoven and some Mozart. But my favorite is Chopin. He was the master of classical piano. I've been working on some of his nocturnes. Nocturne means _night song._"

Leslie watched Jamie's hands dance their harmonic ballet on the keyboard. His fingers moved quick and cool as they wove together the fabric of notes. Leslie felt her head spin and her heart soar as Jamie played one of the greatest love songs ever written. And there was no sheet music in front of him.

The melody alternated from tender to playful, then came a wave of passionate crescendos that ebbed into tenderness. Then tenderness became playful again, and playfulness gave way to a tender ending.

"Wow! That was amazing!" Leslie cried. "And you learned to play it by ear?"

"Sort of. I have the sheet music and the CD. I learned it both ways. Beethoven wrote that piece for a girl he was in love with. When he played it for her, she thought it sounded like funeral music."

"_That_ was no funeral music. That was a real love song. You know, you could be a concert pianist. You should go to a music college after high school."

"You mean a conservatory? I wish. They're pretty exclusive. They don't let just anyone in. I'd have to audition. And, I'd need a scholarship. Tuition at a conservatory is just as expensive as a regular college – if not more. But I'd love to go if I could. I like all kinds of music, but classical is my favorite. That's what I'd want to play if I were a professional musician. And I'd love to compose my own pieces, too. That's my dream! Man… I sound like a real geek, don't I?"

"Jamie, you are not a geek. Stop putting yourself down."

"Well, without more lessons, I couldn't pass the audition to get into a conservatory, so… "

"Don't give up! College is years away, and you're already a good musician."

"And I have an uncle who's a music teacher. Uncle Steve went to a conservatory. Too bad we don't play the same instrument. But he has helped me out a lot, especially with reading sheet music and understanding the terminology. Maybe if I keep practicing…"

"That's it! Don't give up on your dream! Remember what you told me – you gotta have hope, or you'll go crazy."

"What about _your_ dream, Leslie? I mean, besides the one about your parents staying together."

"I'd like to be a writer, but not because my dad's a writer. I love to write."

"What do you write? Stories?"

"Ah, you'll think it's silly."

"No I won't."

"Well… I like to write poetry."

"Cool! I've written some myself. Poetry is like a symphony of words."

"Yeah! It is, isn't it?"

"Did you bring any poems with you?"

"No. They're on my computer in Washington. I have journal software, too. I thought about bringing a notebook with me to write in, but I was afraid my grandma might find it and read it. And she would. She cleans my room when I'm not there. Oh! Wait a minute!"

Leslie leaped out of her chair and took it across the room to the computer desk. She sat down at Jamie's computer and brought up the web browser. She typed in the URL for FictionPress and hit Enter.

Jamie brought over his keyboard chair and sat next to her.

"You have stuff on FictionPress?"

"Some poems and a few short stories. I use my chat nick as my author name."

Leslie touched the mouse pointer to Search, then selected Author from the drop-down box and typed in Leslie0427 as the keyword. The search engine brought up the name and she clicked on it.

"Here, this is a good one. It's called _Someone Keeps Calling My Name_…"

**SOMEONE KEEPS CALLING MY NAME**

**by**

**Leslie0427**

**Someone keeps calling my name  
or is it the whistling wind  
or is it my shadow  
playing tricks again**

**Someone keeps calling my name  
or is it the crickets  
rubbing their legs in chorus  
just to annoy me**

**Someone keeps calling my name  
or are the birds so bored  
that I've become their entertainment  
their shuffling clown**

**Someone keeps calling my name  
or am I going crazy  
or is it just  
that I need a friend?**

"Well… what do you think?" Leslie asked.

"Wow. That's really deep," Jamie said. His blue eyes were shining, but there was sadness in his smile. "I feel the same way sometimes. You know, you're a talented writer. Have you shown your dad what you've written?"

"No. Actually, all he knows is that I keep a journal. He doesn't know anything about my other writing."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to bother him."

"But he's a professional writer – a _best selling_ professional writer. He could teach you a lot about writing."

"I know. Maybe I'll talk to him later, after he and Mom get back from the retreat and… decide what they're going to do."

"Well, I know what _I'm_ going to do. I'm going to read everything you've got on FictionPress!"

Jamie's hand reached for the mouse. Leslie put her hand on top of his.

"Not now. It's getting late, but before I go, I think we should talk about… what happened earlier."

"What?"

"You know."

"Oh... _that_," Jamie said, and blushed. "I never thought any girl would want to kiss me."

"Well, I never thought any _boy_ would want to kiss _me_."

"Are the boys at your private school blind, or are they just stupid?"

_Both,_ she wanted to say, but didn't.

"So… you liked it, right?"

Jamie smiled warmly. His blue eyes sparkled. "I loved it. I shall treasure it always, milady."

"You wouldn't… tell anyone, would you?"

"What? Me, a knight, betray thy confidence and besmirch thy honor like my rogue brother does his many maidens? I should say not!"

"Zack has a lot of girls after him, huh?"

"He's probably dated most of the girls in his junior class – and maybe some freshmen, sophomores, and seniors, too. They look at Zack and see a handsome baseball star on the outside. They don't know what a conceited jerk he is on the inside. But it doesn't take 'em long to figure it out. Seems like he's with a different girl every week."

"You may be six years younger than him, but you're more mature than he'll ever be."

"Yeah. He needs to grow up and get a clue."

"Well… I better get going."

They left Jamie's room and went downstairs to the front doorway. Leslie put on her boots, then Jamie handed her Aunt May Belle's old Barbie umbrella. They gave each other a goodbye hug. Leslie felt herself being drawn to him again. Her eyes closed. She could feel him coming closer. His lips brushed against hers and –

"Jamie? Is that you?"

They shot out of each other's arms just before Mrs. Byrne reached the top of the stairs. Leslie's heart raced. She dropped her umbrella.

"I'm here, Mom," Jamie said. "I'm just seeing Leslie out."

"Okay."

"Oh, that was close! Ohmigod, that would have been so embarrassing if she'd seen us!" Leslie said in a harsh whisper.

They both laughed.

Jamie opened the door for her. She picked up her umbrella. They stared at each other for a moment, then looked up at the top of the stairs. Mrs. Byrne wasn't there. They decided to play it safe and exchange a quick hug. Then Leslie ran off. When she got across the street, she noticed that she'd forgotten to open her umbrella. Fortunately, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

After she opened the umbrella, she was careful not to run. She didn't want to end this perfect day by falling and getting all muddied up. Thoughts were bouncing around inside her head like popcorn in the popper. Today, she had her first kiss. It was an important part of every girl's life. And Leslie had no one to share it with. Her mother was out of town. She couldn't talk to her grandmother about it. Who else was there?

When she got home, she had her answer. A gray minivan was parked in the driveway. It was Aunt May Belle's minivan. She and Aunt Joyce had come to dinner in that thing. Aunt Joyce had called it "a Sherman tank for soccer moms."

Leslie ran to the door, folded up her umbrella, and went inside.

She heard and Aunt May Belle and Grandma talking in the kitchen. She found them sitting at the table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of each of them.

"Ah, there she is!" said Aunt May Belle.

"I was starting to worry," Grandma added.

"Where's Grandpa?"

"At the grocery store, dear. He'll be back."

"Leslie, I was just at school for a meeting, and I found out there were a few of these left. I thought you might like one."

Aunt May Belle brought a tote bag out from under the table and fished out something inside. It was a brick red t-shirt. She unfolded it. On the front, it had a graphic image of a school building. Below it, the caption read _**Lark Creek Elementary**_.

"Cool! Thanks, Aunt May Belle! Come on, let's try it on _now_."

"Okay."

Leslie practically pulled her aunt out of her chair and down the hall to her room. She closed the door behind them.

"Whoa, Leslie, don't get so excited over a t-shirt!" Aunt May Belle laughed.

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell my grandparents?"

"Oh. Well… that depends on what it is."

"It's nothing bad or anything, it's just… I was at Jamie's house today, and… I sort of… kissed him."

"You _kissed_ him? Ohhh! You had your first kiss! Oh, that's something every girl remembers for the rest of her life! I remember mine. Jimmy Ray Moore. His big sister Wanda Kay was in Mrs. Myers' class with your daddy and Leslie Burke. But she wasn't their friend. Your daddy thought Wanda Kay was the snottiest girl in class. But Jimmy Ray wasn't snotty at all. He was a sweetie pie. And a good kisser, too. I was about your age when he kissed me."

"But you didn't marry him."

"No, but I'll never forget that first kiss. So what was yours like?"

"Well, Jamie and I were talking, and he said that he didn't think any girl in her right mind would kiss him… so I did. Ever since I met him, I started having these… feelings. I've had crushes on boys before… well, actually, the last time I had a crush on a boy, I was in second grade... I really haven't thought much about boys since then, but after I met Jamie, I started having these feelings about him. Strong feelings. He's not like any boy I've ever known before. He's smart, he's kind, he's a great musician, and he has the most amazing blue eyes. He is _so_ cute! And get this – we have the same birthday, April 27th! It's like we were _meant_ to be together, you know? It's like we're –"

"Soul mates? Like your daddy and Leslie Burke were?"

"Yeah, like that! But… oh, maybe I'm just getting carried away. We only had one kiss… well, we were going to kiss again, but then his mom almost walked in on us… still, does this mean that we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy, honey! I know, you just had your first kiss, and your head is probably spinning like a top, but you have to take it easy. You planted the seed, now comes the hard part. You have to take it slow and nurture it if you expect it to grow into something beautiful. This is the best time in a girl's life, but sometimes it can feel like the worst. You're at the tweener stage – you're not a child, but not a teenager, either. You're starting to experience new feelings. You're starting to mature intellectually, emotionally, and physically. You're becoming more curious about the world around you. And you may be feeling confused about a lot of things. But everything you're experiencing now is completely normal and natural. You've also got a lot on your mind, what with your parents' problems. What I'm trying to say is that this is a special time in your life, and you have a lot going on. So take it easy, okay?"

"Does Jamie feel the same way?"

"Of course he does. He's starting to experience new feelings and starting to mature, too."

"Oh, he's already mature. I mean, he _acts_ more mature than his brother, even though he's six years younger. Do you think Jamie feels the same way about me?"

"What happened when you kissed him?"

"He kissed me back."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, it felt wonderful!"

"Did he like it?"

"He told me he loved it."

"There's your answer."

"Thanks, Aunt May Belle."

"Sure, honey. And if you want to talk again, just call me. Grandma has my number. Now remember – take it easy."

"I will. And thanks again for the t-shirt."

"You're welcome."

Leslie hugged Aunt May Belle. Then she tried on the t-shirt. It fit like a glove. She went to show it to her grandmother.

"Hey, nice!" Grandma said. "Fits you perfectly, dear!"

"Well, I better get going," said Aunt May Belle. "Dinner doesn't make itself. Bye, Momma."

"Bye-bye, sweetie. Y'all don't be a stranger now, hear?"

Leslie saw Aunt May Belle to the door. After the minivan pulled out, Grandpa's old truck pulled into the driveway. Leslie ran out to help him with the groceries.

Later, at dinner, Grandpa asked Leslie, "So… did you have fun with your friend today?"

"Yeah. I had a great time."

"That's good," said Grandma, "because while you were gone, your grandpa and I were talking, and we'd like you to invite Jamie over to the house tomorrow."

"Oh, but Grandma…"

"Now, I know he has a computer and all, but you've been spending a lot of time with this boy, and we ain't even laid eyes on him yet. We promised your daddy we'd take care of you, and we want to know what kind of kids you've been playing with."

_Playing with?_ Leslie thought. _Ugh! Leslie Burke was right – grandmothers just forget that you're growing up._

"So, after dinner, you call Jamie up and invite him over for tomorrow," said Grandpa. "If he's as nice as you say, he won't mind coming over here. Hell, he'll probably get a kick out of seeing the house where Jess Aarons grew up." He winked at her.

Leslie sighed. There was no way out. If she refused to call Jamie, her grandparents would think that they were up to no good and trying to hide something from them. They'd never let her see Jamie again. She couldn't risk that. She had no choice but to call him.

After she finished off Grandma's peach cobbler, Leslie called Jamie on the kitchen phone.

"Hello? Mrs. Byrne? This is Leslie. Can I talk to Jamie, please?"

"Sure. Ja-mie! Telephone! It's your little girlfriend!"

Leslie cringed.

"Hi, Leslie! Sorry about that. My mom has no tact."

"Hi. I was wondering if you'd like to come over here tomorrow. You've never been to the house, and... _my grandparents want to meet you._" She emphasized the last six words so he'd understand.

"Sure, I'd love to come over! I wouldn't mind seeing the house where Jess Aarons grew up! How about I come over around 9?"

"Great, I'll see you then. Bye!"

"Fare thee well, milady – until the morrow! I shall arrive at your castle in my finest armor!"

Leslie hung up the phone. "Okay, it's all set. Jamie's coming over tomorrow morning around 9."

"Good," said Grandma.

"Fine," said Grandpa.

They both seemed relieved.

That night, when Leslie climbed into bed, her head was still spinning. She kept thinking about her first kiss. Maybe it was a mistake to talk to Aunt May Belle, but there was no one else. Leslie wished more than ever that her parents – especially her mother – had been there for her. Like her aunt had said, this was the best time in a girl's life, but sometimes, it can feel like the worst.

Leslie couldn't help worrying about what would happen when Jamie came over the next morning. There was no computer, no keyboard. It would still be raining outside. What would they do – watch TV all day? No, there had to be something else they could do.

As long as Jamie was with her, Leslie could do anything.


	8. Chapter 8

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 8: The Play Date

Even though her stomach was in knots, Leslie wolfed down her oatmeal with gusto. It was just after 7AM, and Jamie wasn't due until 9, but there was no time to waste. Leslie had to shower, decide what to wear, get dressed, clean her room, and figure out just what she and Jamie were going to do. She wondered if Jamie was scrambling to get ready at his house and asking himself how they'd pass the time with no computer and no keyboard.

As much as she wanted to see him again, Leslie dreaded it. What if her grandparents didn't like him? These were the same people who couldn't stand seeing her father spend time with Leslie Burke. They thought there was something wrong with a boy who spends his time playing with girls. But Grandpa did say he'd been wrong about that. And Grandma said that _she_ was wrong about Leslie Burke, too.

Still, Leslie was worried. Jamie wasn't like any boy she had ever known. He wasn't like any boy that her grandparents had ever known either, and that's what worried her. What if Jamie starts talking like a knight in front of them? Leslie loved it when he did that – he _was_ like her knight in shining armor – but what would her grandparents think? _They'd think he was crazy – that's what._

After she finished her breakfast, Leslie hit the shower. She was so nervous that she put the conditioner in her hair _before_ the shampoo. She quickly rinsed it out and shampooed her hair, then put in the conditioner again. _Oh well,_ she thought. _The shampoo bottle does say lather, rinse, and repeat…_

Leslie finished showering and dried off. She used Grandma's blow dryer on her hair. She brushed it and combed it, trying to look presentable. She decided not to tie her hair up in a ponytail. Ponytails were for kids, and Leslie wasn't a kid anymore. She was a tweener, like Aunt May Belle said. Soon, she would be a teenager.

She looked herself over carefully in the mirror. Her honey blond hair was nicely combed and neatly styled. She liked the way it looked when she wore it long. It made her look older and sophisticated. She saw that her brown eyes had regained their amber sparkle. She wore no makeup; Grandma had a makeup drawer in the sink cabinet, but Leslie didn't dare put any of it on – her grandmother would freak out if she did. Her mother only recently agreed to allow her to wear just a dab of lipstick and lip gloss.

_You don't need makeup, honey, _Mom had said. _Besides, the trick to wearing makeup is to make it look like you're __**not**__ wearing makeup. A little dab will do just fine._

In her room, Leslie opened the top drawer of her father's old bureau. She picked out underwear and socks and put them on. Now she had to decide what clothes to wear. She went to the closet, where she had hung up her shirts, pants, shorts, and dresses. She'd brought only two dresses with her – one fancy dress for special occasions and one everyday dress for when she didn't feel like wearing jeans or shorts. She preferred wearing jeans or shorts, but it was nice to wear a dress now and then. It made her feel feminine and pretty.

Leslie was not about to wear a dress today. Part of her wanted to look pretty for Jamie, but she didn't want her grandparents to get the wrong idea about them. If she came out all dolled up for Jamie, they would definitely get the wrong idea. She had to be careful. One wrong move, and her grandparents would never let her see Jamie again. The very thought of it terrified her. How would she survive the summer without him?

Passing on her dresses, Leslie took out her good jeans and a knit top. It was a simple baby pink mock turtleneck top, with slightly bell bottomed sleeves. It was a long sleeve shirt, but light enough to wear in the summer. After she dressed, she put on her good brown leather shoes. It was still raining, so she and Jamie wouldn't be going outside. She didn't have to worry about getting her good shoes muddy.

Leslie checked herself out in Dad's old mirror. She looked just fine. There was nothing about her outfit that would make her grandparents suspicious. It wasn't anything they hadn't seen their other granddaughters wear. She wondered what Jamie would be wearing. She knew he wouldn't come over in a suit and tie, but he wouldn't be wearing his old white t-shirt, old jeans, and ratty sneakers, either. He was a gentleman at heart, and a gentleman would dress well for this occasion. But not well enough to make her grandparents suspicious, she hoped.

At 9AM, Jamie hadn't yet arrived. Leslie paced back and forth on the living room floor. Outside, thunder rumbled, and she could hear the frantic pitter-pat of heavy rain. "Why don't you sit down and relax, dear?" Grandma asked from the kitchen. "A watched pot never boils."

Leslie plunked herself down on the sofa. She felt her stomach knot up again. There was so much riding on this visit. _Why do they have to meet him?_ Leslie asked herself. _Don't they trust their own granddaughter?_ She knew the answer to that. Her grandparents trusted _her_, but they didn't trust Jamie. She had to admit that it was hard to trust somebody you didn't know, especially where your children or grandchildren were concerned. If everything goes well, if they get to know the real Jamie –

The knock on the door startled Leslie and snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I think that's your play date now," said Grandma.

_Play date__? Ugh!_ Leslie hated that term. So did her father. _Only a soulless, anal-retentive, type-A yuppie trophy parent could have come up with a term like __**play date**__, _Dad once said. _It's __bad enough that they push a hectic schedule of extracurricular activities on their kids, now they have to schedule their playtime, too?_

Leslie opened the door. A figure in a slick blue raincoat and hat lowered its umbrella.

"Hi!" Jamie chirped. He took off his hat and came inside.

"Hi," Leslie said. "You can hang your raincoat on the wall rack." There was a mat under the rack to catch dripping water.

After he hung up his coat and hat, Jamie took off his rain boots and left them on the mat. Then he fished a comb out of his pocket and quickly ran it through his hair. Leslie was surprised that he was able to comb his hair so neatly so fast. He put the comb back in his pocket. She looked him over. He wore a crisp, plaid Oxford shirt and navy blue jeans that looked new. There wasn't a speck of mud on them. Jamie had tucked his jean cuffs into his rain boots before he left.

He looked very nice – and not the least bit suspicious.

"You look nice, Jamie."

"You, too."

She led him into the kitchen, where her grandparents were sitting at the table, drinking coffee.

"Grandma, Grandpa, this is Jamie Byrne. Jamie, these are my grandparents – Grandma and Grandpa Aarons."

At first, Leslie's grandparents stared at Jamie awkwardly. Then they looked at each other. They looked back at Jamie and smiled at him. They seemed relieved. _What, did they expect him to have a mullet and tattoos?_ Leslie thought.

"Hello, son," Grandpa said. He got up and offered his hand. Jamie shook it firmly. "That's a good grip you got there, son!" Grandpa winked at him.

Grandma offered Jamie her hand. He shook it gently.

"Hi," Jamie said. "I'm pleased to meet you both. Leslie told me all about you."

"All good, I hope," Grandma said, smiling.

"Yes'm."

"Did you walk all the way over here in the rain?"

"Yes'm, I love walking in the rain."

"Leslie does too. Would you like a nice hot cup of coffee?"

"Yes'm. Black please, no sugar."

"Now, that's the way a man drinks his coffee," said Grandpa.

"Why don't you kids sit down while I fetch a cup?" Grandma asked.

Leslie went to pull out a chair, but Jamie said, "Allow me," and pulled it out for her.

"Thank you."

Jamie sat down. Grandma set a mug in front of him and filled it with hot coffee from the pot. He blew on it and took a sip. "Ohhh, that's good!"

Grandma joined them at the table. "So, how did you two meet?" she asked.

"Well," Jamie said, "Leslie was walking in the woods and she sat down to rest on the big tree stump. I was sitting up in the tree next to the stump – on one of the high branches. I said hello, and it took her a little while to figure out where I was. But she did, and we've been friends ever since."

Jamie smiled at Leslie. She smiled back at him. She was glad he left out the part about her crying.

Grandpa took out his pipe and lit it. "We're glad she made a friend here," he explained. "She's had a pretty rough time of it lately. She tell you about her parents?"

"Yes sir, she did." Jamie took another sip of coffee.

"What did you have to say about it?"

"I told her that she should hope for the best, but be prepared for the worst. And if the worst does happen, her parents would still love her. Their problems aren't _her_ fault."

"That's good advice," Grandpa said to Leslie. "You listen to him." Then he asked Jamie, "You do know that her daddy is Jess Aarons, right?"

"Sure. I realized _that_ when she told me her name."

"This is the house where Jess grew up, you know. Leslie's staying in his old room. The room he used to share with his little sisters, that is. You read his books? He wrote one about himself when he was a boy... about himself and his friend, Leslie Burke. He named his daughter after the Burke girl. The book's called _Bridge To Terabithia_."

"I know. It's one of my favorite books. Jess Aarons is one of my favorite writers."

A weird look came to Grandpa's face. Leslie didn't like it.

"I hope you're not friends with my granddaughter just because of who her father is."

Jamie seemed revolted by the idea. "No, of course not! Sure, Jess Aarons is one of my favorite writers, and it's neat to be here in the house where he grew up, but I like Leslie for who _she _is, not because she has a famous father. I like her _a lot_."

He smiled at Leslie impishly. _Be careful, Jamie..._ she wanted to say.

"Besides," Jamie continued. "I know what it's like to have someone famous in your family."

"Your daddy's famous, too, is he?" Grandpa asked.

"No, my brother Zack is the famous one. He's the star pitcher on the Millsburg Mavericks varsity baseball team."

"Zack Byrne... I know that name! I've seen his picture in the sports section of the _Millsburg Journal_. He's really good – he pitched a no-hitter this past season. You play baseball, too?"

"No, sir. I don't."

"What then? Football? Soccer?"

"No... piano."

"Beg pardon?"

"Piano. Electronic keyboard, actually. But it's a real, professional instrument, not a toy. It's got 88 full-sized keys, just like a piano. It has a great sound. Someday, I'd like to have a real piano... a baby grand, maybe – but they cost a lot of money."

"Oh, you're a musician!" Grandma beamed. "When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter Brenda – she was our first child – I hoped she would take piano lessons someday. She wasn't interested. Nor were my other children. I guess it was all for the best. We couldn't have afforded piano lessons, anyway. Do you take lessons, Jamie?"

"I used to, but then money got tight, and my father said he couldn't afford both my piano lessons and Zack's baseball camp. Dad said that the money he _could_ spend would be better spent on Zack's baseball camp, so I had to give up my lessons."

"Well, that's hardly fair," said Grandpa. "If money's too tight for both, then both should go. Otherwise, you turn your kids against each other. But, it ain't my place to tell another man how to raise his kids. I'm sorry you lost your lessons."

"Thanks, but it's not the end of the world. I still have my keyboard. My Uncle Steve has been teaching me some stuff. He's the music teacher at Lark Creek Elementary."

"Oh yeah, Leslie mentioned that to us."

"He's a guitarist, not a keyboard player. But he's taught me a lot about music theory – you know, how music works, how to read musical notation. That's important to learn, too."

"You like to play rock music?"

"Sure."

"I can't believe what passes for rock and roll these days. When I was your age – a long, long, _long_ time ago – we were crazy for rock singers like Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis. I was a big fan of Jerry Lee. I bet you've never heard of him."

"Of course I've heard of Jerry Lee Lewis!" Jamie cried. He started to sing:

_"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain  
too much love drives a man insane  
You broke my will, but what a thrill!  
Goodness gracious, Great Balls Of Fire!"_

Jamie tapped his fingers on the table as though he were playing a piano. Grandpa roared with laughter.

"Yeah, that's Jerry Lee, all right!"

"You know, before guys like Jerry Lee Lewis came along, all the rock pianist did was back up the guitarist. Jerry Lee proved that the piano could be a lead instrument."

"He sure did," Grandpa agreed. "He'd go berserk on that piano of his."

Jamie finished his coffee. Grandma took his empty cup and said, "Well, we've taken up enough of your time. I know you and Leslie are chomping at the bit to go play, so you kids go and have fun."

"Yes'm. Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Aarons."

He and Leslie got up to leave.

"I don't know what we're going to do," said Leslie. "I should have brought some more stuff from home."

"Well," Grandma said. "We keep some games for when the grandchildren visit. They're in the hall closet. Let's see... there's Candy Land, Checkers, Connect Four, Clue, and Monopoly. There's also a big box of Legos in the closet."

"You might find something more interesting in the attic," Grandpa interjected. "Door's in the hallway ceiling. Just pull the cord to open the door and unfold the stairs. Mind they don't hit you on the head. There's a light up there – you'll find the switch. Be careful while you're exploring, now – the attic ceiling's low and there are places where you could trip and fall."

_So **that's** what the cord was for,_ Leslie thought.

"Oh, I don't know if I want you kids going up there," Grandma said, "but there are some things in the attic I'm sure you'd like to see. _Please_ be careful."

"We will, Grandma," said Leslie.

In the hallway, Jamie jumped up and grabbed the cord. "Stand back," he told Leslie. She backed up a few steps, and he pulled the door open. A small, collapsed staircase was attached to the door. Leslie helped Jamie unfold the stairs. "Ladies first," he said.

"Sure, send _me_ up first to scout for rats," Leslie laughed. She climbed up the stairs carefully, making sure to watch her head. Jamie followed her. She found the light switch and turned it on. She scanned the area for rats, but saw none. She was relieved. She hated rats – and mice, for that matter.

The attic wasn't as dirty and dusty as Leslie thought it would be. The ceiling was low, but not too low for her and Jamie. It was maybe two feet higher than their heads. There were Rubbermaid boxes of various sizes stacked in one part of the attic. In the other part, there were different objects placed neatly next to each other.

There was a very old sewing machine on a small table. Grandma must have gotten it from _her_ mother. For something that had belonged to Leslie's great-grandmother, it didn't look in that bad a shape. Next to the sewing machine was a dress form on a stand. It too looked very old. It was made of cloth and metal wiring and looked like a woman's body, but with no head, arms, or legs. Leslie wondered if Grandma had used these things to make clothes for her aunts when they were kids and the family was poor.

"Hey, Leslie, check these boxes out!" Jamie said. "This one says XMAS."

They pulled out the box and opened it.

"Christmas decorations," they said together.

"I wonder how big their tree is," said Jamie. "The box should be here somewhere."

"Nope. Grandpa can't stand artificial Christmas trees. Dad told me that he always gets a real one. Usually, Grandpa cuts it down himself, but now that he's older, I don't know."

"Hey, look at these!" Jamie pointed at five big Rubbermaids. Each box had a name written on it in black marker: BRENDA, ELLIE, MAY BELLE, JOYCE, and JESS.

"Maybe that's stuff from when they were kids! Let's take out the JESS box."

Jamie lifted the box on top so Leslie could slide out the JESS box. Then they opened it.

"Wow, look at this stuff!" she said.

The box contained an assortment of memories. There were school papers, pictures, old art supplies, small toys, and other things.

Leslie pulled out an old sketchbook and flipped through the pages. All the drawings were done by her father in black and colored pencils. One sketch caught her eye. She held it up near the light to get a good look. In the picture, a boy and a girl were surrounded by ominous tall trees that grew close together and seemed to blot out the sun. Some of the trees had moved apart just a little to let in a few golden rays of sunlight. The biggest and brightest ray was cast upon the boy and girl. They were kneeling on a carpet of fallen leaves and pine needles. Their eyes were closed. Their hands were clasped in prayer. They smiled like little Buddhas, as though they were filled with wisdom and peace and joy. Next to them, a happy little dog stood on its hind legs, its front paws held up like a priest's hands.

In the lower right corner, the title read:

_A Time Of Greatest Joy  
Jess Aarons  
1980_

"That's the Grove Of The Pines, isn't it?" Jamie asked. "That's your dad and Leslie Burke... and Prince Terrien! What an amazing drawing!"

"Look at the date – Dad was only thirteen when he drew it."

"Wow."

Leslie closed the sketchbook and clutched it tightly to her chest. "I love it. I'm taking this downstairs with me, so I can look at all the drawings in my room."

"If you like it, you should take it home with you to Washington."

"Oh, I could never do that! It must mean a lot to Grandma and Grandpa. They kept it all these years."

"Let's see what else is in here." Jamie rummaged through his favorite writer's childhood treasures. He found a manila envelope with the words _5__th__ Grade Class Picture _written on it. He opened it and took out the picture.

A surprisingly large number of smiling kids sat on bleacher seats in a classroom that had been cleared of desks. The kids in the front row sat on the floor. A heavy-set woman stood to the left of the kids. She wasn't smiling. She had a solemn look on her face. There was a sign in front of the kids that read:

_5th GRADE  
MRS. MYERS  
OCTOBER '77_

"It's Dad's fifth grade class picture! If this was taken in October 1977, then... there's Dad... and there she is! She's sitting right next to him!"

Leslie pointed out a skinny, tomboyish girl with short brown hair and spiky bangs.

"Wow," Jamie gasped. "It's the real Leslie Burke! It's not that good a picture of her, because all the other kids are scrunched into the frame, but it's not bad, either. This is the first photograph of Leslie Burke that I've ever seen."

There was no mistaking the delight in his eyes.

Leslie put the picture back in the envelope. "Come on," she said. "Let's put the box back, go to my room, and look at all of Dad's drawings in this sketchbook."

They put the cover back on the JESS box and slid it into place. Jamie noticed there was something behind the BRENDA box – two things, actually. Cases with handles on them. "What are those?"

Jamie pulled them out. They were both heavy. One was a hard shell case, the other softer, but almost as heavy. The hard shell case had two rusting buckles. He popped them open and the case came apart.

"Cool, it's a record player!"

There was writing on the inside of the cover. It said:

**PROPERTY OF  
_Brenda Aarons_**

"You think it still works?" Leslie asked.

Jamie lifted up the tonearm and felt under it carefully with his finger. "It's still got a needle, and the needle feels sharp. The power cord looks good, too. Hey, I'll bet the other case has records in it!"

He popped open the buckle lock on the other case.

It was full of records – the big, long-playing kind.

"There's got to be over twenty records here, Leslie! Great ones, too! Look at this – Queen, Black Sabbath, Lynyrd Skynyrd, ABBA, The Steve Miller Band, Peter Frampton..."

"I've heard of some of them. Who's Shaun Cassidy?"

"He was an actor turned pop singer. He was real famous when your dad was our age. He had a hit song called _Da Doo Ron Ron_. Uncle Steve played it for me on his guitar once."

"Oh, I _hope_ that record player works! I've _got_ to hear these records. Let's go!"

"Yeah!"

They packed up the record player and records into their cases. Jamie carried them both. Leslie took her father's old sketchbook. They turned off the light and climbed down the attic stairs. Jamie set down the cases. Leslie helped him fold up the attic stairs and lock the ceiling door into place.

"And I thought we'd have nothing to do here," Leslie said.

They smiled at each other.


	9. Chapter 9

Eric's Default Template

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 9: Fireworks

Leslie led Jamie into her room. She was glad she'd cleaned it earlier; Jamie looked the room over as though it were a museum exhibit. He was obviously in awe.

"Wow. So this is the room that Jess Aarons grew up in? Cool! What happened to the other bed? I thought he had to share this room with his little sisters."

"He did. Grandma and Grandpa moved the other bed out a long time ago. They did the same thing with Aunt Ellie's bed in the room she shared with Aunt Brenda. Now they have two one-bed guest rooms. They've got extra hideaway beds if they need 'em. Between four aunts, I've got a lot of cousins – and that's just Dad's side of the family."

"So... you're actually sleeping in your dad's old bed?"

"Yup, that's Dad's old bed – except for the mattresses. They were replaced."

Leslie tossed the record case and her father's old sketchbook onto the bed.

They set up the record player on top of Leslie's bureau. Jamie plugged it into the outlet behind the dresser. Then he turned it on. The turntable started spinning. He turned the volume up to just past halfway, put down the 45RPM adapter, and switched the speed to 33 1/3 RPM.

"So far, so good," Jamie said. "What record do you want to try first?"

Leslie opened the record case, took out the Shaun Cassidy album, and handed it to Jamie. "I want to hear that _Da Doo Ron Ron_ song."

Jamie slid the record out of its case, then placed it on the spindle. He lifted the tonearm up and carefully placed the needle at the beginning of the first track. The sound boomed and crackled out of the monaural speaker. Jamie moved the tone knob to the right to add more bass. There were still some crackles and pops coming from the record, but it didn't sound _that_ bad.

_I met her on a Monday  
and my heart stood still  
Da doo ron ron ron  
Da doo ron ron_

_Somebody told me that  
her name was Jill  
Da do ron ron ron  
Da do ron ron_

_Yes – my heart stood still  
Yes – her name was Jill  
and when I walked her home...  
Da do ron ron ron  
Da do ron ron_

Leslie bopped along to the music. Jamie did, too. Then he motioned for her to dance with him. It was more like jumping up and down and swinging each other back and forth than dancing, but it felt wonderful. Leslie found herself getting lost in the pure joy of it.

_I knew what she was thinking  
when she caught my eye  
Da do ron ron ron  
Da do ron ron_

_She looked so quiet,  
but my oh my!  
Da do ron ron ron  
Da do ron ron_

_Yes – she caught my eye  
Yes – my oh my!  
and when I walked her home...  
Da do ron ron ron  
Da do ron ron_

The door opened. Leslie and Jamie let go of each other just as her grandparents walked into the room. Jamie almost tripped over his feet when he went to turn off the record player. The record made a ripping sound when he pulled off the tonearm.

"I see you found your Aunt Brenda's old record player," Grandma said. "She and your Aunt Ellie used to drive us crazy with that thing, playing their records all day. I don't think your daddy was too fond of it, either. Lord, those girls could make noise!"

Grandma and Grandpa both laughed, but Leslie didn't. Her heart was pounding.

"Why, you're all out of breath, dear," said Grandma. "You must have been dancing up a storm."

"No, we were just... moving along to the music," Leslie explained.

"You know," Grandpa said, "your grandma and I used to move around pretty good ourselves. Like Jerry Lee Lewis once sang, there was a whole lotta shakin' goin' on!" Suddenly, he grabbed Grandma and twirled her around, pretending to dance with her.

"Oh! For Lord's sake! Jesse Oliver Aarons, act your age!" Grandma scolded. But Leslie could tell that Grandpa's playfulness hadn't offended her at all. She and Jamie snickered.

"Well, that's enough tomfoolery for one day," said Grandpa. "We'll leave you kids to yourselves."

"Jamie, would you like to stay for lunch?" Grandma asked.

"Yes'm. Thank you."

"Do you have to call home to ask permission?"

"No. I told my mom I'd probably be here most of the day."

"All right, then."

Before Grandma left, Leslie asked, "Grandma? How come you have Aunt Brenda's old record player and all the other stuff in the attic? Does Dad and his sisters know that you still have some of their stuff from when they were kids?"

"Oh, they all know, dear. They keep saying that one day, they'll come and get it, but they never do. I'm kind of glad they never get around to it. There's a lot of memories in those boxes. Sometimes, I like to go up and look inside 'em. I expect someday, when your grandpa and I are gone, your daddy and his sisters will finally come for their boxes. I hope when they do, they'll keep 'em. Maybe save 'em for their children."

"Grandma... don't talk like that. I mean, about you and Grandpa being... gone."

"Aw, don't you worry none, dear," Grandma said. "Your grandpa and I got a lot of living left to do." She tousled Leslie's hair.

Grandma left and closed the door behind her.

"See?" Leslie said to Jamie. "I told you those things meant a lot to Grandma and Grandpa. That's why I can't take Dad's old sketchbook home with me."

"There's one thing I don't get."

"What?"

"How come your dad never took his fifth grade class picture with him? Wouldn't he want to keep a picture of Leslie Burke? I know it's not the greatest picture – but it's _something_."

"He has other pictures of her. They're much nicer than that class picture. Dad's in a few of the pictures, too. They were taken by Leslie and her father. The Burkes sent the pictures to Dad around Christmastime that year... you know, after Leslie died. Dad never expected to hear from the Burkes again after they moved, but in the middle of December, they sent him a package. Well, actually, it was one of those manila envelopes. The pictures were inside it. There was a letter, too."

"What did it say?"

"Well, basically, the Burkes thanked Dad again for being a wonderful friend to their daughter and wished him well. You know, that kind of thing. They wanted him to have the pictures as a keepsake. That's what Dad told me."

"You never read the letter yourself?"

"No. A couple of times, I asked Dad if I could see it. He said it was in the safe with all of our important papers, and he didn't have time to look for it. Funny, he always talks about the pictures and how much he loves them, but he never talks about the Burkes' letter. At least, nothing specific. He did say once that he learned a few things about Leslie Burke that he never knew before. But he wouldn't say what those things were. I'm dying to see that letter, but I wouldn't feel right going through all of Mom and Dad's private papers. Also, I don't know the combination to open the safe."

"I'd love to see that letter myself, but you're right. It's not a good idea, going through their private papers – even if you did know the combination. You know, I once thought about going through my parents' papers."

"Really? Why?"

"I thought I might find some adoption papers with my name on them. That would've explained a lot. But I couldn't go through with it. Later, my mom showed me my birth certificate. She thought I might get a kick out of seeing it."

"You thought you were adopted? But you look just like your brother and your dad."

"I know, but... come on, let's listen to another record."

"Okay."

Leslie didn't press him to explain further. She knew perfectly well why Jamie thought he might be adopted. He never felt like he belonged. His father didn't give him much affection. His older sibling was the favorite. His talents were overlooked by everyone except his uncle – a music teacher.

Jamie was a lot like her father at that age.

Maybe she could be _his_ Leslie Burke.

Maybe she already was.

"What next?" Jamie asked.

"Huh?"

"What record do you want to listen to next?"

"Oh! Um..." Leslie sat down next to him on the bed. She dumped all of Aunt Brenda's records out of the case and went through them. When she saw the Iron Butterfly album, she gasped and snatched it up. Then she turned it over and looked at the list of songs.

"Ah! _In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida_!" Jamie chirped. "I know that song! _In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, baby / don't you know that I love you? / In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, honey / Don't you know that I'll always be true?_ That song has an incredible keyboard solo, one of the best I've ever heard!"

"Yeah, it's an awesome song, but play this one first," Leslie said, and pointed at the title.

"_My Mirage_?"

"Sometimes, when Dad's sitting at his drawing table, he sings _My Mirage_ while he works. He told me that song is stuck in his head because Aunt Brenda and Aunt Ellie used to play the album over and over again. He said that if Grandma and Grandpa had known what the song was really about, they'd have thrown out the record."

"What's it about?"

"I thought it was just about drawing. You know, the creative process and stuff. Dad says it's an acid song. Whatever that means."

Jamie turned the record player on. Leslie took the record out of its cover and handed it to him. He put it on the spindle and set the tonearm on the third track. He turned up the volume, making sure not to crank it too loud.

The song started with a keyboard solo that sounded like organ music. Then the guitar, bass, and drums kicked in with a slow and steady rhythm. Then came the spacey vocals:

_In my mind, I see a mirage  
on the wall  
But unfortunately  
it's not there at all_

_So I guess I'll draw my mirage  
on the wall  
Then it can be here to see  
and enjoyed by all_

_My mirage  
I'll be drawing you soon_

_Then all the beautiful people  
who come to our home -  
they'll be seeing you, too_

_My mirage  
I'll be drawing you soon_

_My mirage  
I'll be seeing you soon..._

"Now, _that_ is a cool song!" said Jamie. "I can see why your dad likes it so much." After the song ended, he took the record off the spindle and handed it to Leslie. "I'll pick the next song," he said. He took the Queen album and slid out the record. "You'll like this one."

"A Night At The Opera? Is this opera music?"

"Nope. This song's called _You're My Best Friend. _Listen," Jamie said. He set the tonearm on the fourth track. It wasn't opera, but good old-fashioned rock and roll that boomed out of the speaker:

_Ooh, you make me live  
Whatever this world can give to me  
It's you, you're all I see  
Ooh, you make me live now, honey  
Ooh, you make me live_

_Oh, you're the best friend  
That I ever had  
I've been with you such a long time  
You're my sunshine  
And I want you to know  
That my feelings are true  
I really love you  
Oh, you're my best friend_

As she danced with Jamie, Leslie felt that wonderful bubbling sensation rise up inside her again.

_Ooh, you make me live_

_Ooh, I've been wandering round  
But I still come back to you  
In rain or shine  
You've stood by me, girl  
I'm happy at home  
You're my best friend_

_Ooh, you make me live_

_Whenever this world is cruel to me  
I got you to help me forgive – ooh ooh ooh  
Ooh you make me live now, honey  
Ooh you make me live..._

The song could have been about her father and Leslie Burke – or about her and Jamie. Leslie closed her eyes and let it sink in. She was in that wonderful place where time stopped and nothing existed but her and Jamie. This was what Dad and Leslie Burke must have felt when they entered _their_ secret world, huddled together in their ramshackle castle, serenaded by the birds and the wind rustling through the leaves.

This was the great and secret place. The sacred place.

This was Terabithia.

Leslie opened her eyes. Jamie smiled at her. His blue eyes were sparkling. They were dancing slower than the song, swaying back and forth in each other's arms.

_Oh, you're the first one  
When things turn out bad  
You know I'll never be lonely  
You're my only one  
And I love the things  
I really love the things that you do  
Oh, you're my best friend..._

They stopped dancing. Leslie felt herself drawn to Jamie again. Her eyes closed. There was a hint of a breeze as he drifted toward her. She felt the warmth of his breath as his lips touched hers. They kissed, and the bubbling feeling inside her boiled over. It was –

"Kids, lunchtime!" Grandma bellowed. She knocked on the door, then opened it. Leslie and Jamie shot out of each other's arms. He was headed for the record player when Grandma walked in.

"You kids ready to eat?"

"Sure, Grandma," Leslie said. She hoped she wasn't blushing. Inside, her heart was pounding. Grandma left the room. Leslie took a couple deep breaths. "Ohmigod, that was another close one!" she whispered to Jamie.

The table was set with four bowls of steaming soup. One whiff of the heavenly scent, and Leslie knew it had to be Grandma's homemade chicken soup. There were oyster crackers on the side and iced tea to drink.

Grandpa was already sitting in his chair at the table. Leslie and Jamie sat down next to each other. "This soup looks delicious, Mrs. Aarons," Jamie said.

"Why, thank you dear!"

It sure did look delicious, Leslie thought. Grandma made her chicken soup with celery, carrots, peas, diced potatoes, and the best part – dumplings! They waited for Grandma to sit down before they started eating.

"Mmm, Grandma, this is so good!"

"You know when it's really good? On a cold winter day. This soup's kept me warm through many a winter," said Grandpa. He sprinkled some oyster crackers on top of his soup.

Leslie noticed that Grandma was watching Jamie closely. He sat up straight, with his left arm at his side. He didn't slurp or dribble his soup. He blew on each spoonful, slid it in properly, and chewed with his mouth closed.

"I must say," Grandma interjected. "Jamie, you are a well-mannered young man."

"Thank you."

"Your folks sure raised you right," said Grandpa.

_He raised __**himself**__ to be a gentleman_, Leslie wanted to say, but didn't.

After they finished their soup, Grandma brought out a pecan pie for dessert. She started to cut the first slice when the phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, hello, dear! We were about to have some of my pecan pie. Why don't you come on down? You sure? Actually, we do have one guest – Leslie's little friend, Jamie. Hold on, I'll ask her. It's your Aunt May Belle. She's taking your cousins to see the fireworks at Millsburg Stadium for the Fourth, and she wants to know if you'd like to come along."

"Yes! Can I talk to her?"

Grandma handed Leslie the phone.

"Hi, Aunt May Belle! Thanks! I'd love to see the fireworks. Usually, Mom, Dad, and I go to the big show in D.C., but... you know."

"I know. Well, I'm glad you won't be missing out. The Millsburg Stadium show might not be as big as the one in D.C., but it's still a pretty good show. So, what do Momma and Daddy think of Jamie?"

"I think they like him."

"What have you guys been up to?"

"Nothing much. We found Aunt Brenda's old record player in the attic, and we've been playing some of her records."

"No kidding?! That old thing still works after all these years? Well, I'm not surprised. Brenda and Ellie took real good care of it. That record player was all they had. Momma and Daddy couldn't afford a stereo."

"We also found one of Dad's old sketchbooks and his fifth grade class picture – with Leslie Burke in it. Grandma and Grandpa have a box in the attic with some of his old stuff – and boxes with your old stuff, Aunt Brenda's, Aunt Ellie's, and Aunt Joyce's old stuff, too."

"I keep forgetting about my box. Someday, I'll have to go up there and get it."

Leslie hoped that someday wouldn't come anytime soon.

"Well, I better go and leave y'all to that pecan pie. But I before I do, why don't you ask Jamie if he wants to go with us to the fireworks?"

"Can I? Thanks! Hold on!" Leslie clapped a hand over the receiver. "Jamie, Aunt May Belle invited me to go to the fireworks at Millsburg Stadium and she says that you can come too. You want to go?"

"Sure! Well, I'll have to ask my parents first. I don't think they'll mind. If they say yes, I'll meet you here on Wednesday night."

"Okay." She took her hand off the receiver. "Aunt May Belle? Jamie says he'll have to ask his parents first, but he thinks they'll say yes, so he'll meet me here on Wednesday night."

"Great. The show starts at 9PM, but I'll pick you up around 8. You have to leave early, or there's no place to park. I'm bringing a few lawn chairs in case the bleacher seats fill up. It's first come, first sit at this show. See you then!"

"See you then. And thanks."

"Tell her I said thanks, too," Jamie chimed.

"Jamie says thanks, too."

"You're both more than welcome. Bye."

"Bye."

Leslie hung up the phone. Grandma had already doled out four slices of pecan pie. They all dug into it.

After he finished eating, Jamie wiped his lips with his napkin.

"That was delicious, Mrs. Aarons – all of it. Thank you for inviting me to lunch."

"You're very welcome, dear."

"I am so _stuffed_," Leslie said. "I don't think we'll be moving along to the music for a while."

"I'm sure you'll find something else to keep yourselves occupied," Grandma said, "though I must admit, it was nice hearing that record player again."

Grandpa nodded in agreement.

"C'mon, Jamie, let's go to my room," said Leslie.

"Okay."

After they closed the door, Leslie and Jamie packed Aunt Brenda's records back into their case and set it down next to the bureau. Leslie put the sketchbook on the nightstand. Then they laid down next to each other on the bed.

"I need a rest," Leslie said.

"Me, too."

"Well, the rain will be gone by tomorrow. We can go swimming at the Enchanted Cove."

"Tomorrow? Oh, uh, yeah. Well, maybe in the afternoon."

Jamie suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?"

"Tomorrow's Sunday."

"So?"

"I have to go to church. Service starts at 10AM. We usually get back around 11:30. We go to Grace Baptist Church in Millsburg."

"What's wrong with that?"

There was a troubled, haunted look on his face.

"If I told you a secret, would you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Of course I wouldn't tell anyone. What's wrong?"

"I hate it. Going to church, I mean. I know I'm supposed to love it, but I don't. I can't stand it. These people... they're all crazy. So is the pastor. They actually believe that the story in the bible's Book of Revelations is real. They think that someday, God is going to suck up all the Christians into the clouds and let everyone else die while He destroys the earth. When I was little, it used to scare me. Now it just makes me sick because I see little kids sitting and listening to this stuff and looking just as scared as I used to be. And the pastor screams at everyone about sin and sinners and how this God who is supposed to love you would gladly roast your soul in a lake of fire for all eternity if you displease Him. And it seems like _everything_ displeases Him. He'd even roast babies in Hell if they weren't baptized."

"Your parents don't really believe all that, do they?"

"I don't know. They seem level-headed to me. When they're in church, they don't scream out 'AMEN!' to everything the pastor says like some of the other people. But they do think there's some kind of conspiracy against religion out there. Like the government wants people to stop going to church or something. It doesn't sound like a bad idea to me. Of course, my parents would freak if I ever asked them if I could stay home on Sundays."

"So... how do you deal with it then?"

"In _Bridge To Terabithia,_ your dad said that he tuned out the service in his mind. That's kind of what I do. I close my eyes and blank my mind and try to think of my favorite Chopin pieces. I pretend there's a piano in my mind playing his nocturnes and sonatas and waltzes..."

"That's nice. I bet that really works."

"Most of the time."

"I guess I'm pretty lucky," Leslie said. "Dad stopped going to church years ago, and Mom was never religious. Dad used to read a lot about religion in college, though. I think he liked reading about Buddhism the most. He told me once that if he ever took up religion again, he'd be a Buddhist. He said that other religions just inspire ignorance and intolerance. But don't tell my grandparents he said that."

Leslie winked at Jamie and smiled warmly. He smiled back at her. She could tell that she made him feel better, and that made her feel good.

"Thanks. Well, when I go to church tomorrow, I won't be thinking about Chopin. I'll be thinking about you. I'll imagine that we're at the Enchanted Cove – a true paradise where all hateful gods have been cast out."

"Are we going swimming tomorrow afternoon?"

"I don't know. My parents say that Sunday is a _family day,_ so they'll probably want me to stay home after church. I'll ask, but don't count on it."

"No problem. We'll go swimming Monday. Oh! Don't forget to ask if you can go to the fireworks with me!"

"I won't. Believe me, I won't."

"Good. Let's rest our eyes for a while."

They cuddled up next to each other and closed their eyes.

Leslie wondered what it would be like on Wednesday night, huddled with Jamie under the stars, watching the fireworks.

She had already seen fireworks – every time she kissed him.


	10. Chapter 10

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 10: Good News And Bad News

After they rested, Leslie and Jamie played a few more of Aunt Brenda's records. Then it was time for Jamie to go home. His parents were expecting him for dinner. Leslie showed him to the door. He put his boots on, then took his raincoat and hat off the rack and put them on.

"Well," Jamie said. "Time to go. I thank thee for a lovely time, milady." He smiled and bowed to her.

"Thou art more than welcome, my knight. Until the morrow... or Monday?"

"Until then."

Just as they embraced each other, Grandma bellowed "Leslie? Has Jamie left yet?" Startled, they shot out of each other's arms. Then Leslie's grandparents rushed into the living room.

"Uh, no Grandma," Leslie said. "He's still here."

"Good," said Grandma. "Jamie, Mr. Aarons and I just wanted to tell you what a pleasure it's been to meet you. You're always welcome to come over and play with Leslie."

_Come over and play?_ Leslie thought. _Oh, god... what am I, five years old?_

"Thank you. Um, actually, Leslie and I were planning on going swimming either tomorrow or Monday... if it's alright with you."

"Sure," said Grandma. "We know she's in good hands with you. Just let us know when you're leaving and what time you think you'll be back."

"We will. Thanks."

Jamie picked up his umbrella.

"Well... bye, Leslie."

"Bye."

Jamie opened the door, pointed his umbrella forward, and pressed the button on the handle. It opened in plenty of time to shield him from the rain. Leslie watched him trot off. When he was out of sight, she went back to her room. Aunt Brenda's records were scattered on the bed, so Leslie packed them up in the case, which she set down next to the bureau. She looked at the record player and saw that she'd left a record on the spindle. The cover would still fit, so she let the record be. After she turned the record player off, closed the cover, and snapped the buckles shut, Leslie flopped down on her bed.

_Jamie's only been gone a few minutes, and I miss him already_, she thought. _What am I going to do when I have to go back to Washington?_ She would have to face her parents' divorce without him. She would have to face all those phonies at school without him. Sure, she could call him on the phone and e-mail him, but it wouldn't be the same. She felt scared and sad at the same time. _How did Dad ever survive after he lost Leslie Burke?_

Of course, this was nothing like what her father went through. Dad thought that Leslie Burke would always be there for him, then one day, in a sudden, clawing stroke, she was ripped away from him forever. Leslie knew from the beginning that her time with Jamie was short. The most she could have hoped for is that somehow, she would be able to stay with her grandparents for the whole summer. She knew that wasn't likely. In fact, any day now, her parents could come for her, depending on how the retreat went. And then...

And then what?

Leslie mulled it over in her mind. Maybe she could talk Dad into visiting Grandma and Grandpa more often. After all, they're not getting any younger. Maybe she could talk both her parents into letting her spend some weekends in Lark Creek. That might work. Leslie felt a pang of guilt. It wouldn't be right, asking if she could spend some weekends with her grandparents when she knew full well that she really wanted to spend time with Jamie. She _did_ want to spend more time with her grandparents, but she also wanted to see Jamie. Was that so bad?

And what about Jamie? What if he meets another girl at school or in his neighborhood – a girl who lives nearby and can spend lots of time with him? He was so sweet, smart, and talented, and with those blue eyes, what girl wouldn't fall for him? The very thought of Jamie with another girl made Leslie sick to her stomach. But she had to face reality. She lived at least an hour's drive away from Lark Creek.

_Out of all the tree stumps in the woods, why did I pick that big one? Why did Jamie have to be up in that tree? I wish I never met him!_

Leslie felt the hot tears welling in her eyes. _I'm sorry, I didn't mean it._

Of course she hadn't meant it. Meeting Jamie was the best thing that ever happened to her. He was the only one who understood her, the only one who treated her like a real person. To him, she was more than just Jess Aarons' daughter. He was no phony. He was the real thing. He reached out to her when she needed a friend. And she reached out to him. Despite his kindness, intelligence, and talent, Jamie was terribly lonely. She could see it in his eyes – the dark spirits that lurked behind the shimmering blue pools. He needed her as much as she needed him.

They needed each other. And that need wouldn't go away after Leslie went back to Washington. There must be a way...

"Leslie?" Grandma was calling for her. She knocked on the door, then opened it. Leslie quickly wiped her eyes on her shirtsleeve. Then she took a deep breath.

"Yes, Grandma?"

"Dinner's in an hour. Don't forget to wash up."

"I won't."

Dinner turned out to be leftover fried chicken, which still tasted great. Grandma made fresh biscuits to go with it, and homemade vanilla pudding for dessert. Leslie didn't say much during dinner. Afterward, she helped Grandma with the dishes. Then she went to her room.

Leslie changed into her nightgown, then opened a compartment in her suitcase and took out one of the books she'd brought with her. _The Amber Spyglass_ by Philip Pullman. It was the third book in Pullman's _His Dark Materials _trilogy. Leslie had already read the first and second books – _The Golden Compass_ and _The Subtle Knife_. She was looking forward to the third. They were fantasy novels about alternate worlds and universes, shape-shifting daemons, evil angels, something called Dust, and a smart, brash, and heroic young girl named Lyra Belacqua who finds herself at the center of a prophecy. There was also a love story. Lyra meets Will Parry, a boy from another world who becomes her first love. Leslie couldn't wait to read _The Amber Spyglass _and see how it all turns out.

She got into bed and started reading. She was glad she'd brought a few books. She needed something to take her mind off her troubles. She remembered how her dad's first novel had been a fantasy novel. Before that, all of his books had been picture books. Not that he didn't love drawing picture books, but he always wanted to write a novel. There were black ink drawings placed between chapters to illustrate certain scenes, but the book was still a novel. It was called _Fairy Tale._

_Fairy Tale_ was set during the Renaissance. It was the time of Kings and Queens and noble knights, of minstrels and magic, dragons and giants, and of course, fairies. It was also the time of the Black Death, a terrible disease that was spreading throughout the land. An old alchemist (a cross between a scientist and a wizard) called Hieronymous had discovered the secret of the Panacea – the "elixir of life" that could cure any disease. He used it to save many people from the Black Death

But then he became consumed by greed. Even though the Alchemist's Oath – the sacred promise an alchemist makes to serve those in need – forbade him from doing so, Hieronymous decided that he should be paid for his services, and paid handsomely. King Gerard the Good, ruler of the land, had no choice but to surrender his kingdom's riches, for Hieronymous was the only one who could make the Panacea. Without it, the Black Death would ravage the kingdom.

After there were no more riches left, Hieronymous refused to make more Panacea for the King. As the Black Death spread throughout the kingdom and infected many of his subjects, the King sent parties of knights to search for Hieronymous' lair and make him give them the recipe for Panacea. None of the parties ever returned.

Hieronymous didn't need Panacea to make him rich anymore; he had discovered another secret: the formula for turning lead into gold. That would make him the richest man in the world! But there was a problem - the formula called for a half-cup of boiled fairy wings, and Hieronymous didn't have any. Since humans can't see fairies, the old alchemist prepared a potion that would give him _feesicht_ – fairy sight.

What Hieronymous didn't know was that there were two poor peasant children who had been born with _feesicht_ – 10-year-old Julian and his bratty little sister Mariel - and they had seen him hunt and capture most of the fairies in their little village, Fairy Glen. With the help of their friend – a foul tempered but good-hearted fairy named Archibald - Julian and Mariel track Hieronymous to his secret lair and turn one of his own potions against him, changing the old alchemist into a rat.

With the fairies saved, Julian and Mariel search Hieronymous' lair for the Panacea recipe. In one room, they find what they think is a collection of life-sized stone statues. But they quickly realize that the statues are really the King's missing knights! The kids search through Hieronymous' library of alchemy books and find the formula to bring the knights back to life. Then, Mariel accidentally knocks over a vase and breaks it, revealing the Panacea recipe that had been hidden inside.

The grateful knights proclaim that the Panacea recipe – and the riches it would bring to its owner – rightfully belongs to the kids for risking their lives to fight the evil Hieronymous and save the knights. Poor as they are, Julian and Mariel don't want to profit from the suffering of others. They decide to give the recipe to King Gerard so that enough Panacea can be made to treat everyone infected with the Black Death. The kids' unselfishness is rewarded; while they were away, their parents became infected with the disease, but after the King begins distributing the Panacea, Julian and Mariel's parents are among the first to be treated and cured.

Of all her father's books, _Fairy Tale _was one of Leslie's favorites, second only to _Bridge To Terabithia._ It was a huge bestseller, which surprised Dad's publishers. They were sure it wouldn't be as popular and successful as his picture books. But it was. And it was controversial, too, though Dad was no stranger to controversy. Little kids loved his _Kalama Zoo_ series of picture books, but more than a few adults complained about them.

The books were about the animals in a zoo called Kalama Zoo. One of the animals was a cantankerous, potty-mouthed rhinoceros named Hornsby who had a habit of swearing whenever he got angry – which was often. There were no actual swear words in the _Kalama Zoo_ books. Instead of using words, Dad drew symbols to represent Hornsby's colorful language. When Leslie was about five years old, she read the first book in the series, _Something New At Kalama Zoo._

In the book, a new animal is brought to stay at Kalama Zoo – a monkey named Simi. But the clever monkey escapes before the zookeepers can put him into the monkey habitat. He runs around the zoo and wreaks all kinds of havoc. In one scene, Simi climbs up an apple tree that overlooks Hornsby's bathing pond and throws an apple at him. It bounces off the rhino's head and he yells _OW! What the #$%&?!_ Then another apple hits him! When he looks up and sees the monkey in the tree, he warns him: _Bean me with another apple, and I'll make mashed bananas out of you!_

Simi does his best to annoy all the animals in the zoo. When they finally corner him, he explains that he was deliberately causing trouble so that the zookeepers would send him back to Africa. He was just homesick. The other animals tell Simi that Kalama Zoo is actually a nice place to live and offer to be his friends. Simi agrees to live in the monkey habitat and not cause anymore trouble. But in the last scene, while Hornsby is talking to his girlfriend – a lady rhino named Rhonda – he gets hit in the head with an apple again. He looks up, sees Simi sitting in the tree laughing, and says _I hate that $*%&#! monkey._

Leslie had never laughed so hard in her life. Even though she was too old for picture books now, she still re-read the _Kalama Zoo _books whenever she needed a good laugh. Of course, not everybody laughed at them. Some parents' groups accused her father of encouraging little kids to swear like Hornsby. Some even demanded that the books be removed from school libraries.

When _Fairy Tale_ became a bestseller, The American Way, a conservative activist group, called the novel "insidious socialist propaganda in the guise of a fairy tale." Dad thought that was funny. But he wasn't laughing when _Bridge To Terabithia_ received the most criticism of all. He couldn't imagine that such a profound and moving story would provoke such anger. When he went on _The Oprah Winfrey Show_ to defend the book, he looked very uncomfortable. Oprah couldn't understand the criticism, either. She loved _Bridge To Terabithia._

Leslie tried to concentrate on her reading, but the words seemed to go out of focus, along with her thoughts. There was a knock at the door, and Grandma said, "Leslie? Can I come in, dear?"

"Sure, Grandma."

Leslie put down _The Amber Spyglass_ as her grandmother walked into the room.

"Doing a little reading, I see?"

"Yeah."

Grandma sat down on Leslie's bed.

"You know, your grandpa and I meant what we said about your friend Jamie. He's always welcome here. We were mighty relieved, seeing that he was such a nice and well-mannered young man. And handsome, too. It's no wonder you're sweet on him."

"Grandma..." Leslie felt herself blush.

"Now, now. I may be old, but I'm still a woman, and a woman can tell. This is the best time in a young girl's life, you know."

"Yeah, that's what Aunt May Belle told me."

"It's not exactly the best of times for _you_, though, is it?"

"No. Not really."

Grandma ran a hand through Leslie's hair and rested it on her cheek. It felt so warm and soothing. She smiled warmly. "I know, dear. I know." She kissed Leslie on the forehead.

"You know, staying here in Lark Creek... it's not as bad as I thought it would be. I didn't think I'd survive one day without my computer, but... I really don't miss it that much. I know I could always use Jamie's if I wanted to – or if I needed to – but I don't. Jamie and I had a lot of fun playing Aunt Brenda's old records. You don't mind if I keep them and the record player in my room for a while, do you?"

"No, not at all!"

Grandpa appeared in the doorway. "Having a little _girl talk_, are we?"

"Just a little," said Grandma. "I'll leave you to your reading, dear."

"I think I'll go to bed soon," Leslie replied.

"Good night, dear," Grandma said.

"Good night, honey," said Grandpa.

"Good night."

After they left, Leslie read a few more chapters of _The Amber Spyglass,_ then marked her place, put the book on the nightstand, and turned out the light.

The next morning, Leslie felt like cereal for breakfast, so Grandma fixed her a big bowl of Rice Krispies with sliced banana. After she ate, Leslie decided not to call Jamie until lunchtime. He should be back from church by then. She showered, dressed, and watched CNN Sunday Morning with her grandparents.

Later, while Grandma was making lunch, the phone rang.

"Leslie! It's Jamie!" Grandma called from the kitchen.

He must have read her mind!

Leslie took the cordless phone, ran to her room, closed the door, and plopped down on her bed.

"Hi, Jamie!"

"Hi!"

"You get back from church?"

"Yup. I'm getting my neck out of the noose right now."

"Noose?"

"That's what I call this stupid necktie. It feels like a noose."

"You have to wear a suit to church?"

"Yeah, but in the summer, I can wear a short-sleeved dress shirt and no coat."

"So... are we going swimming today?"

Jamie sighed. "Well, I have good news and bad news... what do you want to hear first?"

"Oh, boy... better give me the bad news first."

"The bad news is that I can't see you today. You know... it's Sunday, a _family day._ Though on Sunday afternoons, I usually stay in my room and avoid my family."

Leslie chuckled. "What's the good news?"

"It's _very_ good news, actually. I asked my parents if I could go with you to the fireworks... and they said yes!"

"Great! That is so awesome!"

"I know. I can't wait until Wednesday!"

"What about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, I'm all yours. You want to go swimming or do something else?"

"No, let's go swimming! I'm dying to go back to the Enchanted Cove."

"Okay, then – swimming it is! I'll bring the picnic lunch."

"Oh no, you made lunch last time. This time, _I'll_ make us lunch."

"Are you sure? It's no problem..."

"I'm sure, Jamie. _I'm_ making us lunch, and I won't take no for an answer."

"All right, then. My dad says that when a woman has her mind set on something, there's no point in arguing."

Leslie laughed. "You got that right, buster!"

After Jamie stopped laughing, he said, "When and where do we meet?"

"Meet me here around 9AM."

"Okay. It's a date!"

"Yeah... it's a date!"

"Well, I have to go. Zackass wants to use the phone."

"Okay. Bye, Jamie. See you tomorrow."

"See you. Bye."

Leslie hung up the phone and brought it back to its base in the kitchen.

_Yeah,_ she thought to herself, smiling. _It's a date._


	11. Chapter 11

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 11: What's In A Name?

* * *

_Author's Note: Do you have any questions you'd like to ask me? Anything you'd like to discuss? Post to the Legacy Of Terabithia discussion thread on this site at h t t p: / / w w w . f a n f i c t i o n . n e t/topic/28532/10519566/1/ and I'll reply!_

_

* * *

_

After Leslie hung up the phone, Grandma said, "You two going swimming tomorrow?"

"Yeah... if it's okay with you." She realized she should have asked for permission first. "Can I go?"

"Sure."

"Thanks. Jamie's meeting me here at nine tomorrow morning. We'll probably be back sometime in the afternoon. I'm going to make our picnic lunch. Oh, jeez... I have no idea what I'm going to make... or how to make it!"

"You did pretty well helping me make fried chicken. I think you could put together a nice lunch. You do much cooking at home?"

"I help Dad sometimes. He does most of the cooking. Mom's not much of a cook."

"Well, _there's_ a surprise," Grandma said sarcastically. "Good thing your daddy picked up a few things watching me in the kitchen, or you all would be starving."

Leslie hated it when Grandma criticized Mom, but she didn't say anything. Grandma must have noticed Leslie's discomfort, because she quickly changed the subject.

"So, you have any ideas for your picnic lunch?"

"I guess I'll just make us some sandwiches."

"I hope you weren't planning on using that store-bought bread. There's only two slices and a crust piece left. Grandpa only buys it when it's on sale."

"Oh, no!" Leslie couldn't very well ask her grandfather to go out on a Sunday afternoon for bread. Now what would she do?

"You know," Grandma said, "There's plenty of flour. After supper tonight, why don't you make some homemade bread? I bet Jamie would love it."

"I don't know how to make bread."

"Well, _I_ do! And I was planning on making some tonight. I hate that store-bought bread, but it is convenient. It's also expensive. A decent loaf of bread costs almost four dollars nowadays! And even then, it's still mostly air, fillers, and preservatives. For four dollars, I could make three or four loaves of homemade bread. It's better for you, and the taste... well, you'll see!"

"Wow! You make your own bread? But... isn't it complicated?"

"No, honey!" Grandma laughed. "It's easy when you know the basics. And tonight, I'm going to teach you. We'll start with a simple, homemade white bread."

"Great! Thanks!"

Leslie couldn't wait to make homemade bread. At dinner, she wolfed down her food. After her grandparents had their coffee and the dishes were done, Grandma said, "All right, now – are you ready to make some bread?"

"Yes!"

"Good. First, we wash our hands real well with soap and cold water, then dry them off completely. After that, in the cabinet under the oven, you'll find a big glass bowl. Fetch it for me, will you?"

"Sure."

After they both washed up at the sink, Leslie got out the bowl and put it on the table. Grandma started gathering the ingredients. She brought out her flour can, the sugar bowl, a small ramekin filled with salt, and a can of vegetable shortening. The she opened a drawer and took out two packets of active dry yeast.

"This recipe makes two loaves. I learned it from my mother – your great-grandmother. First, we proof the yeast."

From a cabinet, Grandma took out her glass measuring cup. Then she ran some water. She held her finger under the tap. "That's warm enough, I reckon. I can tell with my finger, but you might want to use a thermometer. Look in the drawer where I got the yeast."

Leslie opened the drawer. The thermometer was a gauge perched on top of a five-inch long metal rod. She gave it to Grandma, who stuck it into the measuring cup. The indicator moved up to 115 degrees. "The water has to be about 110 to 120 degrees or so to activate the yeast. This is just a half-cup of water for proofing."

Grandma took out the thermometer, then poured the water into the big glass bowl. Then she opened the yeast packets and poured them in. The little brown yeast globules floated on the surface. Grandma went to her utility drawer and took out a set of measuring spoons, a wire whisk, and a big metal spoon.

Leslie watched as Grandma added a pinch of sugar to the yeast mixture, then whisked it all together.

"The sugar feeds the yeast and starts it going. There's an additional three tablespoons of sugar in the recipe. That keeps it going and makes the dough rise. We'll let it set for a few minutes while we measure the flour. This recipe calls for seven cups."

Grandma showed Leslie how to measure the flour and scrape off the excess with the blunt side of a butter knife. They measured the seven cups of flour into two smaller ceramic bowls. In one of the bowls, Grandma added the three tablespoons of sugar and a tablespoon of salt and mixed it into the flour.

"Look at the yeast," Grandma said. "See that?"

The yeast mixture had become thick and frothy, like the head on root beer.

Grandma took the glass measuring cup and filled it with 1 and ¾ cups of warm water. She had Leslie measure it with the thermometer.

"115 degrees again! Wow, Grandma - you really know your stuff!"

"All the water you add must be warm, or the dough won't rise right."

Grandma set the water aside and opened the can of vegetable shortening. She scooped out two tablespoons of shortening and popped them into the yeast mixture. Then she added one of the bowls of flour.

"All right, pour in the water and stir it up a bit with the big spoon."

Leslie did as she was told. Then Grandma added the other bowl of flour.

"Stir it up real good until the dough comes together. Be sure to scrape the sides of the bowl. We want all that flour go into the dough."

Leslie stirred and scraped and stirred some more, until the ingredients came together in a coarse, lumpy dough. Grandma used her finger to scrape off the bits of dough that clung to the spoon. Then she kneaded the dough in the bowl a few times before taking it out.

"Measure a half-tablespoon of flour, sprinkle it on the counter, and spread it around."

"Okay, Grandma."

Grandma set the dough down on the floured surface and showed Leslie how to knead it.

"See what I'm doing? Turn the dough, lift it up, then push it down and away from you with your palms. Then turn, lift, and push again. Turn, lift, and push. You try it."

As she kneaded the dough, Leslie felt it change in her hands. The coarse, mealy dough became smoother and smoother. She loved the way it felt.

"You're doing great, dear! Just knead it like that for about eight minutes or so."

Grandma got out her kitchen timer and set it. Leslie kept kneading. When the timer went off, Grandma took over and kneaded the dough a couple more times. Then she shaped it into a ball.

They washed the big glass bowl and dried it. Grandma drizzled a little olive oil in the bottom and spread it around until the whole bowl was coated. "That's so the dough won't stick," she said.

Grandma put the ball of dough into the glass bowl, rolled it around, then covered the bowl with two sheets of Saran wrap. Then she put it on top of the refrigerator. "It's nice and warm up there."

"How long does it take to rise?"

"You have to rise it twice, once in the bowl, and once in the bread pans. Each rise is about an hour long. Some doughs take longer to rise."

After she helped Grandma clean up, Leslie went to her room and tried to read more of _The Amber Spyglass._ But she kept thinking about the dough and the lunch she was going to make for herself and Jamie. Her worries distracted her to the point that she put down the book and decided to go watch TV with her grandfather.

Grandpa was watching a football game. "Redskins and Cowboys," he told her. He sat in the recliner with his feet up. Leslie plopped down on the couch. Just then, the Redskins' receiver caught a pass, dodged the Cowboys' defense and ran into the end zone.

"Touchdown!" Grandpa cried. "All right! That gets us ahead again. Dallas scored a touchdown in the third quarter to tie the game. Now it's the fourth with five minutes left to go. I'm glad they went for the touchdown and not a field goal. Now we have a bigger lead to work with."

Touchdowns, field goals, downs, completions, lines of scrimmage – Leslie never could understand football. It was kind of exciting, though. She watched as the Redskins kicked the ball back to the Cowboys. The Cowboys' receiver managed to run about thirty yards before he got tackled. He hit the turf hard.

_Ooh!_ Leslie thought. _That's __**gotta**__ hurt!_

"Leslie!" Grandma called out. "Leslie, come here and see your dough!"

Leslie got off the couch and ran into the kitchen.

"Has it been an hour already?"

"Yep. Look."

The ball of dough had become a huge blob that threatened to run over the sides of the big glass bowl. Grandma took the bowl off the top of the refrigerator and put it on the table. She peeled back the Saran and stuck a finger into the dough. The impression stuck.

"You see? That means the first rise is done. Let's take it out and over to the counter. I've already got the bread pans sprayed."

There was a knife on the counter. Grandma used it to cut the dough into two equal pieces. She took once piece and flattened it with her palms. Then she shaped it into a rectangle about as long as the bread pan.

"Now, we fold the top down two-thirds of the way," Grandma said, "Then we fold the bottom third up and seal both ends."

The dough looked something like a log. Grandma put it into the pan and pressed down a little to even it out. "Okay, now you do the other one."

Leslie flattened the other piece of dough, shaped it, and folded it. She sealed the ends and put it into the pan.

"Perfect! See how easy it is? There's just one more thing to do before we set them for the second rise."

Grandma brought the bread pans to the table. The butter dish was there from dinner. Grandma went to the utility drawer and brought out a brush that looked like a little whisk broom.

"This is a pastry brush," she explained. She brushed a little butter off the top of the soft stick and spread it across the tops of the bread dough. Then she put the Saran wrap from the bowl over both pans and placed them on top of the refrigerator.

Leslie watched the rest of the football game with Grandpa, then went back to her room and her book. After the hour was up, Grandma called her out again. The bread pans were on the counter. The dough had risen high and filled up each pan. Instead of logs, they looked like... well, loaves of bread.

"Now we bake 'em for about twenty-five minutes at 425 degrees. The oven is preheating now."

When the oven beeped, Grandma put the loaves in to bake. Leslie went to her room and tried to read some more of _The Amber Spyglass._ She had gotten through a couple of chapters when a heavenly scent wafted in under her door – the sweet, yeasty musk of fresh baked bread. It smelled so good that she couldn't stand it. She went into the kitchen.

"Just a few more minutes to go," said Grandma. "Oh! I forgot to get out the cooling racks! They're in the bottom cabinet of the china hutch. Get them, will you?"

Leslie got out the cooling racks and set them on the table. Grandma put on her oven mitts, opened the oven, and slid out the shelf. She knocked on the top of each loaf. They sounded hard and hollow. "You hear that? It means that the bread is done."

Grandma took each pan to the cooling racks and turned it over to release the bread. Then she turned the loaves right-side up. They looked like the pictures of bread in a cookbook – perfectly formed and deep golden brown.

"You want to try a piece, honey?"

"Yeah!"

Grandma sliced off the crust piece, buttered it, then cut it half. She handed the halves to Leslie. She took a big bite of one. It was _so_ delicious – better than anything you could get in a store.

"Do I smell fresh baked bread?"

It was Grandpa. Leslie gave him the other half of the crust piece.

"Mmm! You always did make a great loaf of bread," he said to Grandma.

"True... but your granddaughter made _these_ loaves."

"_You_ made this?" Grandpa asked Leslie.

"Well... Grandma helped."

"You did most of the work, dear."

"Thanks for showing me how, Grandma."

"Sure. If you like, I'll write the recipe down so you can make it at home."

"Would you? Thanks!"

"After the loaves are cool, I'll wrap 'em up, then write down the recipe."

_Wait until Jamie has a sandwich on __**this**__ bread,_ Leslie thought. She was so excited that when she went to bed, it took her a long time to fall asleep.

The next morning, Leslie woke to the sounds of someone rummaging around up in the attic. When she opened her door, the ladder was unfolded and the attic light was on. Just then, the light went out, and Grandma climbed down. She had a wicker basket in her hand.

"Morning, dear. Did I wake you? I figured I'd fetch the picnic set for you."

"Thanks. Here, let me help you fold up the ladder."

Grandma put down the basket, then they folded up the ladder and clicked it place in the ceiling. Leslie picked up the basket and looked through it. It had pockets filled with silverware and plenty of room for food, but there were two things missing.

"There's no thermos and no blanket, Grandma."

"It didn't come with a thermos. We just used Grandpa's coffee thermos – the one he took to work. The blanket got tore up years ago. But there's an old red-and-white checkered tablecloth in the linen closet you can use. It's vinyl, so it don't tear or stain easy."

They brought the picnic set to the kitchen. Leslie had a bowl of Rice Krispies with banana slices for breakfast while Grandma washed the silverware. "Don't know if you'll need 'em, but they need a washin' either way. What kind of sandwiches you want to make?"

"Peanut butter. Do you have blackberry jam?"

"No, but you might want to try my homemade strawberry preserves. Jar's in the fridge."

After she chugged her orange juice, Leslie went to the refrigerator. She found the jar of preserves. Leslie opened it and tried a fingerful. "Mmm! Yum!"

Grandma cut four slices of bread. Leslie made two peanut butter and strawberry preserve sandwiches. She got out three Ziploc sandwich bags – two for the sandwiches and one for munchies. "Do you have anything to nibble on, Grandma? Chips or something?"

"There's a big bag of potato chips in the cabinet."

Leslie found it and put some of the chips into a sandwich bag.

"What about dessert?" Grandma asked. "How about some of my oatmeal raisin cookies?"

"Great," Leslie said. She got out another sandwich bag and put four cookies in it from Grandma's cookie tin. "Do you still have Grandpa's thermos?"

"In the cabinet under the oven."

Leslie took out the thermos, filled it with water and added two tablespoons of iced tea mix. Then she stirred it up, screwed the cap on tight and put the thermos in the refrigerator.

The back door opened, and Grandpa came into the kitchen. He had a newspaper under his arm and a scowl on his face.

"Goddamned rabbits been chewing on our vegetables again," he said to Grandma. "If I ever catch 'em in the act, we'll be having hasenpfeffer for supper."

"What's hasenpfeffer?" Leslie asked.

"German rabbit stew," said Grandpa. "Good eatin'."

"Eww! Oh, you wouldn't really kill those poor rabbits – would you, Grandpa?"

"They're vermin, honey. And a pain in the ass."

Leslie snickered. Grandma gave Grandpa a dirty look. He smiled and winked at Leslie, then sat down at the table to read his newspaper.

It was 8:15AM. Leslie went to get ready. She washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair. Then she changed into her bathing suit and put a t-shirt and shorts on over it. She put on her socks and sneakers, then checked herself out in the mirror one last time. She got a towel from the linen closet and slung it around her neck like a scarf.

Leslie waited until just before nine to take the thermos out of the fridge. She packed it in the picnic basket along with the food, the tablecloth, two napkins, and two plastic cups.

As usual, Jamie was fashionably late. He knocked on the door around 9:05.

"Hi, Leslie! Ready to go?"

He wore a t-shirt and bathing trunks. There was a towel slung around his neck.

"Hi! All ready!" She showed him the picnic basket.

"What did you make for lunch?"

"It's a surprise. I think you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will. C'mon, let's go!"

"Bye, Grandma! Bye Grandpa!" Leslie called to them. "I'll be back this afternoon."

"Bye!"

After they left, Jamie said, "Here, let me carry the basket for you."

"Okay... but only if you promise not to peek inside."

"I promise, milady. And as you know, a knight's word is his bond."

She gave him the basket and they headed for the dirt road.

They walked down the old dirt road, through the woods, past the sandpit, then up the hill and through the trees to Jamie's street. Then they walked down the street, out of the neighborhood, and down the main road.

"You know, I was thinking about this all through church. Going swimming with you, I mean. It helped me get through the service. I know it was only one day, but I missed you."

"I missed you too, Jamie."

Leslie thought again about what would happen when she had to go back to Washington. She quickly put the thought out of her mind. She didn't want anything to spoil this day.

When they walked past the big farm and its cow pasture, Jamie mooed at the cows. One of them mooed back at him and Leslie broke up laughing.

"You... you're crazy!"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm the only one who's _not._ Think about it."

They passed the tall corn silos. As they reached the fork in the road near the bridge, Leslie could hear the whooshing of the waterfall. They turned left, walked over the bridge, then took the path into the woods. Jamie led her down the hill to their little beach. The sweet, earthy perfume of fresh water was heavy in the air.

"Ah! The Enchanted Cove!" cried Jamie. He put the picnic basket down. Leslie took out the tablecloth and spread it out. She put the basket on the tablecloth and slipped out of her shirt, shorts, socks, and shoes. Jamie took off his shirt and tossed it onto the tablecloth.

"Shall we?"

"Let's!"

Jamie ran through the water and dove in. Leslie followed him, but the icy sting drew her back. Jamie's head popped up in the middle of the creek.

"Oh, I forgot! _You_ have to get used to the water!"

"Vuh-Very fuh-funny!"

Leslie's teeth chattered as she stood waist-deep in the water, shivering. Jamie swam over, then walked up to her.

"You want me to warm you up again?"

"I'll buh-be okay."

"Are you sure you don't want me to warm you up?" Jamie asked. He smiled at her. His blue eyes were glistening.

"Well... maybe juh-just a little." She smiled back at him.

Jamie ran his hands up and down Leslie's arms to get rid of her goosebumps. Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Leslie closed her eyes and felt his warmth move through her like microwaves. An invisible force seemed to draw her to him until she could feel her lips touch his. They pressed into each other, and a swift surge of warmth coursed through Leslie's veins. She saw visions and heard symphonies and...

And then it was over. Leslie opened her eyes. She and Jamie stared at each other blankly for a moment, then snapped out of their trance.

"I think I'm warm enough," said Leslie.

"Me, too," said Jamie.

They dove into the water.

As they swam around, Leslie asked "How far have you swum out? Have you ever gone under the bridge to the other side?"

"Sure. But the creek goes for miles before it comes back to the waterfall."

"You want to swim out a little?"

"Okay. We'll go under the bridge, then down a ways and around those houses."

"Cool!"

Leslie let Jamie lead the way. She followed him as they swam under the bridge and followed the creek on the other side. As they swam past the houses, Leslie could see where some small piers and docks had been built, as well as a few levees to protect the houses from a flood.

They came to another little stretch of beach, and Jamie said, "Once, when I was swimming around here, I saw two teenagers getting into the water. They were skinny dipping! The girl screamed when she saw me, but the guy – her boyfriend, I think – laughed his head off!"

"I bet _you_ liked what you saw," Leslie said sarcastically.

"I appreciate beauty in all its forms."

"Yeah, right! Just don't get any funny ideas, mister!"

They looked at each other and laughed.

Jamie and Leslie swam up and down the stretch of creek. Sometimes, they dove underwater and glided hand-in-hand through the depths. Soon, it was time for lunch.

They swam back to the Enchanted Cove and got out of the water.

Leslie unpacked their lunch. She handed Jamie a sandwich and poured him a cup of iced tea.

"Hey," Jamie asked. "Is this homemade bread?"

"Yup."

Jamie took a bite. "Mmm! This is so good! The crust is crunchy and buttery, but the bread is soft. I love the strawberry jam."

"That's my grandma's strawberry preserves. She made them herself. I made the bread."

"You made this bread?"

Leslie nodded yes.

"Marry me."

Leslie laughed so hard she almost choked on her bite of sandwich. "I would gladly grant thee my hand in marriage, my knight."

"You really made this bread?"

"I really did. Grandma helped, but I did most of the work."

"It's delicious. Much better than store bought."

"Thanks. I hoped you'd like it."

They munched on the potato chips, then ate the oatmeal-raisin cookies. Leslie packed their trash up in the basket. Then, she and Jamie stretched out next to each other on the tablecloth. She rested her head on Jamie's chest.

"I can hardly wait until Wednesday night. Have you been to the fireworks at Millsburg Stadium before?"

"A couple of times."

"What's it like?"

"Well, Millsburg Stadium is owned by both the city and the school district. The high school football team plays all their home games at the Stadium, but it's also got a running track. They have track and field competitions, outdoor concerts, all kinds of events. I've been to the fireworks a couple of times. It's a pretty good show. They sell food there, too. The fried dough guy makes the best fried dough I've ever had. If he's there again, I'll get us a couple pieces. He fries 'em up golden brown and sprinkles powdered sugar on top... oh, you gotta try it!"

"Mmm! I love fried dough!"

Leslie sighed and stared out at the water.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Jamie asked.

"I was just thinking about... you know, when I have to go back to Washington. What am I going to do without you?"

"Don't think about that now. Cross that bridge when you come to it."

"It isn't easy, you know - being Jess Aarons' daughter and being named after Leslie Burke. When I was in first grade, I got invited to Zoe McKinney's seventh birthday party. She was the most popular girl in class, so I was really excited to get an invitation. I got her a present and when the day came, Mom dropped me off at the party. As soon as I walked in the door, Zoe asked me where my dad was. She thought he'd be coming, too. She was really disappointed when I showed up without him. I spent the whole party either answering questions about Dad, his books, and Leslie Burke, or being ignored completely. I knew then that they were only interested in me because of who my father was. If I wasn't Jess Aarons' daughter, I wouldn't have even been invited. All they care about is celebrity. I thought they were phonies. I didn't want anything to do with them – or anyone else. Then I met you."

"I know. It's the same with me and my brother. It's always been Zack this and Zack that. All I hear about is my brother and how great he is. I didn't want anything to do with anyone, either. I just wanted to be left alone so I could play my keyboard in peace. Nobody else cared about my music, anyway – except Uncle Steve. Then I met you. Now, I don't want to be alone anymore."

"Me neither."

"You know, it may be a drag sometimes, being Jess Aarons' daughter and being named after Leslie Burke, but Leslie Aarons is a pretty cool person. I always liked the name _Leslie._ Do you know what it means?"

"No, I don't. What does it mean?"

"Joy."

"Joy... I like that. How did you know that Leslie means joy?"

"Last year, Helen – one of my mom's girlfriends – had a baby shower. It was her third kid, and she didn't know what to name it, so Mom got her one of those baby name books. It lists hundreds of girls' and boys' names and what they mean. Helen forgot and left the book at our house, so the next day, I started reading it."

"What does _Jesse _mean?"

"Gift."

"And what does _Jamie_ mean?"

"Well... actually... Jamie isn't my real first name. It's a nickname."

"What is your real first name, then?"

"Jameson. My name is Jameson Byrne."

"Jameson? Hey, that's cool! It sounds sophisticated, like... like if you became a doctor, you'd be Jameson Byrne, MD. Or if you were a lawyer, you'd be Jameson Byrne, esquire – Attorney At Law. Or the famous art critic Jameson Byrne... or the renowned concert pianist Jameson Byrne!"

"I like that last one!"

"What does _Jameson_ mean?"

"Son of James. Which makes no sense because my dad's name is John. John Byrne, Jr., that is. Dad always hated being a junior. When they were kids, Uncle Steve would call him John Boy, like that guy on the old TV show, _The Waltons_. Dad really hated that!"

Leslie and Jamie both laughed.

"But what's in a name, anyway?" Jamie asked. "You're more than just a name."

"I know."

"Well I think we've rested long enough. Let's go back in the water!"

"Okay!"

They walked hand-in-hand together into the water, then dove under and into the depths.


	12. Chapter 12

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

By

Wordsmith

Chapter 12: Uncle Steve

As they walked home from the Enchanted Cove, Leslie said, "That was _so_ much fun!"

"Sure was," said Jamie. "I didn't think you'd want to dunk your head under the waterfall again... but you did!"

"Yeah. I'm glad I didn't get hit on the head again by a slimy fish."

Jamie carried the picnic basket for Leslie. As they continued walking, his other hand found its way to hers. Startled at first by the warmth of Jamie's hand, Leslie stopped, then smiled at him and let him hold hers.

They walked silently down the main road. This time, Jamie didn't moo at the cows in the pasture. There was a look of peace on his face and a quiet smile, as though he were lost in a moment of nirvana. Leslie felt the same way.

Soon, they arrived at the entrance to Jamie's neighborhood. At the end of his street, they headed into the trees and down the hill to the forest. When they passed their tree stump, they smiled at each other.

They had passed the sand pit and started down the old dirt road when they heard the sounds. Somewhere, kids were playing or fighting or something – Leslie couldn't tell what, exactly. The farther they walked, the louder the sounds became.

Leslie realized where the sounds were coming from. They had reached a fork in the dirt road. To the left, the road led to a small cow pasture where Leslie had seen some kids playing the first time she went exploring. She let go of Jamie's hand and went to have a look.

There were four kids in the pasture – three boys and a girl. The girl and two of the boys appeared to be the same age as Leslie and Jamie. The other boy was little, maybe four or five years old. The bigger boys were teasing him, playing "keep away" with a stuffed animal. They tossed it to each other above his head. The girl watched them and laughed.

"C'mon, gimme it!" The little boy yelped. "Gimme it!" His voice was quivering.

Jamie came up beside Leslie. "Upstarts and rogues," he muttered. "Hold this for a minute." He handed her the picnic basket and headed toward the kids. Leslie tried to stop him. "Jamie!" She pleaded. "Those guys are bigger than you!"

"So? They're not _older_ than me."

Leslie followed Jamie. She felt her heart race. What would she do if they beat Jamie up?

The stuffed animal went flying again. Jamie took off running. Just as the other boy was about to catch it, Jamie jumped up and snatched the stuffed animal out of the air. He gave it back to its rightful owner.

"Elmo!" the little boy squealed with delight. He hugged the stuffed animal tightly. Then he looked at the bigger boys, blew them a raspberry, and ran off. The boys scowled at Jamie. Leslie saw that they were twin brothers.

"What's the big idea, _Jameson?_" said one of them.

"Well, if it isn't the twins - Tweedledum and Tweedledumber," Jamie said sarcastically. "Haven't you got anything better to do than pick on little kids?"

The brothers' faces flushed red with anger. Leslie struggled to suppress a laugh. The other girl, who had been watching everything, snickered. She had long red hair and marble green eyes.

"That wise mouth is gonna get your butt kicked, _Jameson_," said the other twin. He advanced on Jamie. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," chirped the red-haired girl.

The boy charged at Jamie and threw a punch. Jamie ducked it, whirled around, and lifted his leg. The boy's forward momentum sent him somersaulting over Jamie's leg, and he landed flat on his back. He groaned loudly.

"Have a nice trip?" Jamie asked.

The other twin charged Jamie while his back was turned.

"Look out!" Leslie cried.

Jamie whirled around just barely in time to duck the punch. He tripped the other boy just as his twin stood up. Both brothers went down like bowling pins.

"Is it _fall_ already?" Jamie asked them.

The brothers groaned. Before they could pick themselves up, Jamie darted into the woods. The boys got up and ran after him. All Leslie could do was stand by helplessly and watch. She was paralyzed with fear.

Suddenly, the twins came bounding out of the woods. Jamie chased after them, swinging a big stick around as though it were a sword.

"Come back, knaves!" Jamie called out to them. "Come back and joust with me!"

The twins stopped running and turned to face him.

"You'll get yours, _Jameson,_" said one of the brothers.

Jamie hoisted his stick and pretended to start running. The twins took off down the cow pasture. When they were out of sight, Jamie threw his stick into the woods.

Leslie took a deep breath and exhaled. Relief coursed through her body like microwaves.

Before she could say a word, the red-haired girl threw her arms around Jamie.

"Oh, that was so cool!" she gushed. "You were wonderful, Jamie!"

Leslie felt her free hand clench in a fist. The girl was pretty, but Jamie looked revolted, as though she were something slimy and gross. He wriggled out of her grasp. She looked at Leslie, then at Jamie.

"Who's she?"

"This is Leslie," he replied awkwardly. "Leslie, this is... _Harriet_." He pronounced the name with an accent of disgust.

"I've haven't seen _you_ around before," Harriet said to Leslie. "You just move in or something?"

"If you must know, she's spending the summer with her grandparents," Jamie interjected. "She lives in DC."

"Oh? Have you been showing her around Lark Creek? No wonder I haven't seen you in a while," Harriet replied. "Why don't you come over to my house tomorrow? Or I could come over to your house and you could play me a love song. I bet you know lots of love songs."

She smiled at him warmly. Jamie looked like he wanted to throw up.

"We have to go," he said tersely. He grabbed Leslie's hand and practically dragged her away.

"Bye, Jamie," Harriet cooed.

When they were far enough away, he let go of her. Leslie asked: "Jamie, what's going on? Who was that girl?"

"Harriet Connelly. I can't stand her."

"She seems to like you... a lot. I wanted to claw her eyes out."

Jamie roared with laughter. "I don't think that'll be necessary."

"How long have you known her?"

"Harriet was in my first and third grade classes. Our mothers are friends – they're in the PTA together. Mom was always after me to make friends with Harriet. Then, one day in third grade... oh, never mind."

"No, go on. Tell me what happened."

Jamie sighed. "Well, it was recess, and Harriet was playing with this new Barbie doll she got from her grandmother. Paul and Kevin, the Fulcher twins -"

"Fulcher? As in Gary Fulcher?"

"He's their dad. Like father, like sons. Anyway, the Fulcher twins grabbed Harriet's doll and pulled its head off. Paul Fulcher put the head in his pocket, then he tossed the doll back to Harriet. She started crying, and... I don't even like Harriet – I never did – but... I couldn't let those jerks get away with that. So, I... sort of... beat them up."

"Really?"

"Really. I didn't think I had it in me. They picked on _me_ before, and I never stood up for myself. When I saw them picking on a girl, I guess I just... you know, snapped. And ever since that day, Harriet thinks that I'm her boyfriend, and the Fulcher twins have it in for me. If I hadn't thought to get that stick, they'd have pounded me."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Leslie said. "Harriet was right about one thing – you _were_ wonderful back there. The way you stood up for that poor little boy... but I was so scared, I thought you were going to get beat up."

"What I don't get is how Harriet can hang out with the Fulchers after the way they used to pick on her. Not that I'm jealous, mind you. Maybe she and the Fulchers were made for each other. I don't know. I just wish she didn't have a crush on _me_."

"You should be flattered, Jamie. She's not exactly ugly, you know."

"So what? She's totally obnoxious! She's a terrible snob. And... there's this other girl that I like..."

Jamie smiled mischievously at Leslie.

They held hands again.

When they got to her grandparents' house, Jamie handed Leslie the picnic basket.

"So... are we going swimming again tomorrow?" she asked him.

"Oh, I can't. I'm expecting... a surprise. Come over to my house tomorrow morning - I think you'll get a kick out of... it."

"A surprise? What kind of surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Okay, I'll be there."

Leslie made sure the coast was clear, then she and Jamie exchanged a quick hug and kiss. He took off running. She watched him run until he was out of sight. When she turned around, her grandmother was standing in the doorway.

"Hello, dear. I was wondering when y'all would be back from the creek. There's still plenty of time for you to get washed up before dinner."

"Okay, Grandma."

The next morning, Leslie arrived at Jamie's house at the usual time – around 9AM. There was a car in the driveway that she didn't recognize. The door opened before she could knock on it.

"Hi! Come on in!" Jamie cried. "The surprise is here!"

Leslie walked in and kicked off her sneakers. Jamie led her upstairs and to his room. He opened the door.

A man sat on Jamie's bed. He was attaching the shoulder strap to a shiny black acoustic guitar. The man smiled at them and stood up. He was tall and lanky. He wore a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. His long chestnut hair was tied up in a ponytail. He wore saddle bridge eyeglasses. He looked like a rock star, but his blue eyes and the shape of his mouth placed him on a branch in the Byrne family tree.

"Hi, I'm Steve Byrne – Jamie's uncle."

"This is Leslie Aarons," Jamie said.

Leslie shook Uncle Steve's hand. "Hi! Are you really a music teacher?"

"Sure am! You like the ponytail? It goes over real well here in Lark Creek."

Leslie laughed. They all sat down on Jamie's bed.

"So, you're Jess's daughter, eh?"

"Yup. Do you know my dad?"

"Sure. Haven't seen him in a long time, though. I was about nine years old when we moved here from Richmond. That was back in 1979. Your dad was thirteen. Your Aunt May Belle was my age, and we became real good friends. We still are. You know, when I was sixteen, I put together my first band – it was a garage band called Chump Change – and May Belle would come over all the time to watch us rehearse. She was in love with the bass player."

"Really? I wonder if my Uncle Dave knows about that."

"Of course he does – he was the bass player!"

"He_ was?_" Leslie asked incredulously. "My Uncle Dave, the accountant, used to be the bass player in a rock band?"

"Oh yeah! He was a great bassist, too. His idols were Geddy Lee and Geezer Butler. He learned a lot from them. Dave left another band to join mine. I was lucky to have him. Not long after he joined, we won a Battle of the Bands contest."

"Why did he leave the other group?"

"He liked my songs."

"How did he end up being an accountant?"

"The same way I ended up being a teacher," Uncle Steve laughed. "Our careers as rock stars didn't pan out. Good thing we all went to college. I'm not complaining – I've still got a career in music, and I love to teach. I just wish I'd picked the piano as my instrument."

Uncle Steve smiled at Jamie and tousled his hair.

"Jamie told me how he lost his lessons."

"That's my brother for you. Good 'ol John Boy. Here he's got a musical prodigy, and he's just letting Jamie's talent go to waste. Zack doesn't need baseball camp – for him, that's a luxury. Jamie needs lessons if he's going to get into a conservatory. I've been working with him on theory and stuff like improvisation and composition, but he needs a real piano teacher. If I could afford it, I'd pay for the lessons myself, but I've got two kids of my own, mortgage and car payments..."

"Aw, don't worry about it, Uncle Steve," said Jamie. "You do enough for me already." Then to Leslie, he said, "He's here to jam with me. He teaches me how to play all kinds of music. We play together."

"Hey, why don't we play something for Leslie?" asked Uncle Steve.

"Yeah! What should we play?"

"How about _Flowers Are Red?"_

"Yeah, that's a great one!" said Jamie.

"Who sings that song?" Leslie asked.

"That's an old Harry Chapin song," said Uncle Steve. "Harry was one of the all time great singer-songwriters - very popular in the 1970s. He was also a great humanitarian. Harry played lots of charity concerts to raise money for hunger relief. Then, in 1981, he died in a car accident. He was driving to a gig when a drunken truck driver hit him from behind. It was a great loss, I tell you. Harry Chapin's songs were like short stories set to music. That's why his live album was called _Greatest Stories Live. _His lyrics could be sad, touching, funny, or scary, but they were always thought provoking – very deep. Okay, Jamie, let's do it."

Jamie sat down at his keyboard and turned it on. Uncle Steve put on his guitar and fished a pick out of his pocket. "Ready? One, two, three four..."

At the same time his uncle started strumming, Jamie played shuffling, bluesy chords. Then Uncle Steve sang:

_"The little boy went first day of school,  
He got some crayons and started to draw.  
He put colors all over the paper,  
For colors was what he saw.  
And the teacher said, 'What you doin' young man?'  
'I'm paintin' flowers,' he said.  
She said 'It's not the time for art, young man,  
And anyway, flowers are green and red.  
There's a time for everything, young man.  
And a way it should be done.  
You've got to show concern for everyone else,  
For you're not the only one.'_

_And she said:  
'Flowers are red, young man.  
Green leaves are green.  
There's no need to see flowers any other way  
Than they way they always have been seen.'_

Leslie laughed at the way Uncle Steve sang the teacher's lines, making his rich, baritone voice sound like an exaggerated woman's voice for the chorus.

_But the little boy said:  
'There are so many colors in a rainbow,  
So many colors in the morning sun,  
So many colors in a flower, and I see every one!'_

_Well, the teacher said, 'You're sassy!  
There's ways that things should be.  
And you'll paint flowers the way they are  
So repeat after me:'_

_And she said:.  
'Flowers are red young man,  
Green leaves are green.  
There's no need to see flowers any other way  
Than they way they always have been seen."_

_But the little boy said:  
'There are so many colors in the rainbow,  
So many colors in the morning sun,  
So many colors in a flower, and I see every one!'_

_The teacher put him in a corner  
She said, 'It's for your own good.  
And you won't come out 'til you get it right,  
And are responding like you should.'  
Well, finally he got lonely  
Frightened, thoughts filled his head.  
And he went up to the teacher,  
And this is what he said. And he said:_

_'Flowers are red, green leaves are green.  
There's no need to see flowers any other way,  
Than the way they always have been seen.'_

_Time went by like it always does,  
And they moved to another town.  
And the little boy went to another school,  
And this is what he found.  
The teacher there was smilin'  
She said, 'Painting should be fun.  
And there are so many colors in a flower,  
So let's use every one!'_

_But that little boy painted flowers  
In neat rows of green and red.  
And when the teacher asked him why,  
This is what he said. And he said:_

_'Flowers are red, green leaves are green.  
There's no need to see flowers any other way,  
Than the way they always have been seen.'_

_But there must be a way  
For us to have our children say:_

_'There are so many colors in the rainbow,  
So many colors in the morning sun,  
So many colors in a flower, and I see every one!'_

Leslie applauded them both. "That was a sad song," she said to Uncle Steve. You made the little boy sound like his spirit was totally crushed."

"That's the theme of the song – how teachers can crush a child's creative spirit in the name of conformity. Every teacher should listen to that song at least once. You know how Harry Chapin got the idea for that song? His secretary was upset over her son's report card. His teacher had written something like, 'Your boy marches to the beat of his own drummer, but don't worry – we'll have him marching to _our_ beat in no time.' Those comments made Harry real angry, so he wrote _Flowers Are Red_ in protest."

"Wow."

"Hey, Uncle Steve! I want to play _The Rock _for Leslie. Can we?" Jamie asked.

"Sure! Why don't you sing this time? You've got a good voice."

"Cool! Okay – one, two, three, four..." Jamie played sharp and spooky chords in a sinister rhythm. Uncle Steve strummed along on his guitar. Suddenly, Jamie started singing:

_"'The rock is gonna fall on us!', he woke with a start,  
And he ran to his mother, the fear dark in his heart.  
And he told her of the vision that he was sure he'd seen.  
She said: 'Go back to sleep son, you're having a bad dream!'_

The sharp chords changed into a soaring ballad for the chorus:

_'Silly child -  
Everybody knows the rock leans over the town.  
Everybody knows that it won't tumble to the ground.  
Remember, Chicken Little said the sky was falling down?  
Well nothing ever came of that, the world still whirls around.'_

The sharp and spooky chords, with their sinister rhythm, returned for the next verse:

_"The rock is gonna fall on us!" he stood and told the class.  
The professor put his chalk down and peered out through his glasses.  
But he went on and said; 'I've seen it, high up on the hill.  
If it doesn't fall this year, then very soon it will!'_

_'Crazy boy -  
Everybody knows the rock leans over the town.  
Everybody knows that it won't tumble to the ground.  
We've more important studies than your fantasies and fears!  
You know that rock's been perched up there for a hundred thousand years!'_

_"The rock is gonna fall on us!" He told the magistrates.  
"I believe that we can stop it, but the time is getting late.  
You see, I've done all the research - my plans are all complete.'  
He was showing them contingencies when they showed him to the street._

_'Just a madman -  
Everybody knows the rock leans over the town.  
Everybody knows that it won't tumble to the ground.  
Everybody knows of those who say the end is near.  
Everybody knows that life goes on as usual round here.'_

_He went up on the mountain beside the giant stone.  
They knew he was insane, so they left him alone.  
He'd given up enlisting help, for there was no one else.  
He spent his days devising ways to stop the rock himself.  
One night while he was working, building braces on the ledge,  
The ground began to rumble - the rock trembled on the edge!_

_'The rock is gonna fall on us! Run or you'll all be crushed!'  
And indeed the rock was moving, crumbling all to dust.  
He ran under it with one last hope that he could add a prop,  
And as he disappeared, the rock came to a stop._

_The people ran into the street, but by then all was still.  
The rock seemed where it always was, or where it always will be.  
When someone asked where he had gone they said: 'Oh he was daft.  
Who cares about that crazy fool?' And then they'd start to laugh."_

For the last verse, Jamie played very softly and lowered his voice to almost a whisper:

_"But high up on the mountain,  
When the wind is hitting it,  
If you're watching very closely,  
The rock... **slips**... a little... bit...."_

Jamie played a few more soft chords, then finished the song with a flourish of the keys, accompanied by the final strum of his uncle's guitar.

Leslie applauded them again. "That was so awesome! You guys should start a band of your own! Jamie, your uncle was right – you've got a great singing voice!"

Jamie blushed. "Well... maybe... but I'd rather play than sing." He turned off the keyboard and joined Leslie and Uncle Steve on the bed.

Uncle Steve laughed. "Well, I'll tell you this, Leslie – he's one keyboardist I'd kill to have in my band. Like I said, he's a real prodigy. You should hear him play Beethoven. But his idol is Chopin. Jamie's been teaching himself Chopin's nocturnes."

"And I'd never be able to learn them if you hadn't taught me so much about reading score sheets and how music is composed and arranged," said Jamie.

"Playing music is about more than just repeating notes written on a score sheet. It's about how you interpret the composition and give it life."

"Now, _I_ want to take music lessons," said Leslie. "I wish I had done more than just toodle around on a toy keyboard."

"But you love to write, and you're real good at it," Jamie replied. "I read all your poems and stories on FictionPress. They're so good! You should stick to writing, Leslie – that's where your talent is."

"Yeah, I guess. I do love to write, especially poetry."

"Speaking of writing," said Uncle Steve, "Not long after your Aunt May Belle and I became friends, your dad published his first piece. It was an essay with pictures. Did you know that?"

"Yeah, Dad told me about that when I was little. The essay was called _The Forever Bright Light._ It was published in the _Scholastic Weekly Reader_ when he was thirteen."

"Wow, I didn't know that," said Jamie.

"See, there was this terrible school bus accident in Maine," Leslie began. "It was way back in December of 1979. The weather was real bad – a mix of wet snow and icy sleet – and the superintendent should have closed the school, but he didn't. He decided to have a two-hour delay instead. On the way to school, a bus driver lost control of her bus and it ran off the road and rolled over like five times. There were twenty-two kids on the bus. Seven of them were killed. The rest were badly hurt. Only the driver and a few of the kids were able to walk away with just cuts and bruises. The accident made the national news. Dad saw a story about it on TV and it was in the local paper, too."

"Oh my god," Jamie said gravely. "Seven kids..."

"I remember it well," said Uncle Steve. "And back then, schools didn't have grief counselors."

"Right," Leslie said. "Dad was still grieving for Leslie Burke, and he didn't have many people to talk to about _his_ feelings, either. So he decided to write an essay about loss and grief and send it to the _Scholastic Weekly Reader_. He drew some pictures to go along with it. The Scholastic people published the whole thing. They were very impressed that something so moving – and so well written and illustrated – could have come from a 13-year-old boy. They sent Dad twenty copies of the newsletter. He still has a couple of them, and I think that my aunts and my grandparents have still have their copies, too. Other copies go for about five hundred dollars apiece on Ebay."

"_Five hundred dollars_ for a 40-page _Scholastic Weekly Reader_?" Jamie couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Hey, it's an ultra rare Jess Aarons collectible," said Leslie. She beamed with pride. "You should read it. Dad talks about how Leslie Burke had this special light inside her, and how grateful and lucky he was that she chose to share some of that light with him. Even though she's gone and he'll always miss her, Leslie Burke's light will burn forever bright – inside his heart. I cried after I read it."

"Wow," Jamie gasped.

"Amazing," said Uncle Steve. "Well kids, I have to go. I wish I could stay longer, Jamie. We'll get together again when I have more time." He took off his guitar, detached the shoulder strap and packed everything up in his guitar case.

"Dad said you're going to Virginia Beach tomorrow, Uncle Steve."

"Yep. I'm heading out early and taking your cousins and your Aunt Cheryl to spend the holiday with her parents. I'm sure my father-in-law will ask me yet again when I plan to get a haircut."

Jamie and Leslie both laughed. Then Jamie said, "I'm going to the fireworks with Leslie and her aunt. I can't wait!"

"Me neither," Leslie agreed.

"May Belle's taking you, eh? Tell her I said hello and that I'll call her when I get back. Been a while since we've had her and Dave over for supper."

"Okay," said Leslie.

They walked Uncle Steve to his car and watched him stow his guitar in the trunk.

"Leslie, it's been a pleasure meeting you. You've got a lot of your dad in you, and that's a damn fine thing. Tell him that Steve Byrne sends him his best."

"I will. It's been a pleasure meeting you, too."

It sure was.


	13. Chapter 13

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

By

Wordsmith

Chapter 13: Uncle Hank

After Uncle Steve left, they went back to Jamie's room. He sat down at the keyboard, and Leslie pulled up a chair next to him. Jamie turned the instrument on. He ran his hands over the keys for a moment, then he started to play. It was a gentle, beautiful melody. Leslie rested her head on Jamie's shoulder and closed her eyes.

As Jamie's fingers wove a romantic tapestry of notes and chords, Leslie pictured herself walking outside on a moonlit night, the stars twinkling in harmony with the tinkle of the high notes. The glow of the moonlight seemed to vibrate with the resonating chords. The poetry of the night spoke in soft, low notes.

The melody soared, then retreated into a sweet lullaby, then soared and retreated again. In her vision, Leslie felt a hand touch hers. Jamie was suddenly there with her. He motioned for her to dance with him, and soon they were swaying to the music. They moved faster and faster, twirling each other about. Leslie felt her feet leave the ground. They were both floating, rising up into the night sky. The moon and the stars became closer and closer and –

And then the melody faded away into a soft flourish. Leslie opened her eyes. She was in Jamie's room again, sitting next to him at the keyboard.

"That was _so_ incredible! I've never heard music like _that_ before!"

"Thanks."

"Did you write that, or was it... what was his name... Chopin?"

"_Me?_ Are you kidding? I wish! That wasn't Chopin, either. That was a piece by Debussy called Claire de Lune."

"What does that mean?" Leslie asked.

"Light of the Moon," Jamie replied.

"Wow! That's exactly what it made me think of – a moonlit night!" Leslie didn't tell him about her vision of dancing with him under the moon and stars.

"Claire de Lune is Debussy's most popular piece," Jamie continued. "It's actually part of a larger work. It's the third movement in Debussy's Suite Bergamasque. Once, at school during lunchtime, Uncle Steve and I played Claire de Lune in the music room. He played the violin part on his electric guitar. He actually used a violin bow on the guitar strings, like Jimmy Page does sometimes. It sounded pretty good. Jimmy Page is -"

"The guitarist of Led Zeppelin," Leslie interjected. "Even _I_ know that. My dad listens to them all the time. He's not much into today's music. When I was little, and Dad would tuck me in at night, he'd sing Stairway To Heaven. I used think it was a lullaby."

Jamie smiled warmly and started to sing:

_There's a lady who's sure  
all that glitters is gold,  
and she's buying a stairway to Heaven.  
When she gets there, she knows  
if the stores are all closed,  
with a word, she can get what she came for.  
Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-oooooh-ooh,  
and she's buying a stairway to Heaven..._

"Yeah, that's it! You really do have a good singing voice, Jamie. Are you sure you'd rather play than sing?"

"I'm sure."

"You could do both, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Hey, are you hungry? I'm starving!"

"Me, too!"

"Come on, I'll make us some lunch."

Jamie made two peanut butter and blackberry jelly sandwiches on rye bread. It was the good kind of rye bread – the round kind with seeds, sliced thick. There was no ginger ale left, so they had iced tea to drink. Fortunately, there were some more of those yummy chocolate-frosted mini donuts for dessert.

After Jamie put their plates and glasses into the sink, he said, "I have another surprise I think you'll get a kick out of. It's in the backyard. Before we go out, we'll take our socks off so they won't get dirty."

Barefoot, they walked downstairs and into the family room. The back door was part of the wall behind the recliner. Jamie opened the door. Leslie followed him. Then she saw it.

It was a hammock. A fancy blue and white striped hammock with a built-in pillow. The hammock was attached to two wooden spreader bars and fastened securely with chains to the poles on the large metal frame. The hammock was big enough for two adults to lie together in it - with room to spare. It looked soft, made of quilted material that reminded Leslie of a mattress pad.

"Cool, a hammock!" she chirped.

"It was delivered yesterday afternoon. I forgot that Dad ordered it," said Jamie. "He tried it out and he loved it. I tried it last night. It was great laying there under the stars. Lying in a hammock, you feel kind of weightless - like you're floating on air. Let's get into it and lie down for a while."

"Okay!"

Jamie got into the hammock first, moving a small plastic table of his way. "Dad brought this out here, it didn't come with the hammock," he explained. "He needed something to set his beer on."

After he moved over to make room, he motioned for Leslie to get into the hammock. She got into it carefully, afraid that she might flip the hammock over. But it was too sturdy to flip over.

"This is great, Jamie!"

He put his arm around her and she cuddled up next to him, resting her head under his chin. He started to sing Stairway To Heaven again. Leslie closed her eyes and took in the richness of his honey-smooth voice as he sang softly:

_There's a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure,  
'cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.  
In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings,  
sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.  
Ooh, it makes me wonder.  
Ooh, it makes me wonder..._

_There's a feeling I get when I look to the West,  
and my spirit is crying for leaving.  
In my thoughts, I have seen  
rings of smoke through the trees,  
and the voices of those who stand looking.  
Ooh, it makes me wonder.  
Ooh, it really makes me wonder..._

_And it's whispered that soon,  
if we all call the tune,  
then the Piper will lead us to reason.  
And a new day will dawn  
for those who stand long,  
and the forests will echo with laughter._

_If there's a bustle in your hedgerow,  
don't be alarmed now –  
it's just a spring clean for the May Queen.  
Yes, there are two paths you can go by,  
but in the long run,  
there's still time to change the road you're on._

_And it makes me wonder..._

Leslie opened her eyes and looked at Jamie. His beautiful blue eyes sparkled like shimmering oceans. His smile made her feel warm and squishy inside, and she felt the same sweet ache in her heart she had when he warmed her up that first day at the Enchanted Cove. He continued singing, and his voice grew louder:

_Your head is humming and it won't go,  
in case you don't know.  
The Piper's calling you to join him.  
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow,  
and did you know,  
your stairway lies on the whispering wind._

_And as we wind on down the road,  
our shadows taller than our soul,  
there walks a lady we all know,  
who shines white light and wants to show  
how everything still turns to gold.  
And if you listen very hard,  
the tune will come to you at last.  
When all are one, and one is all,  
to be a rock and not to roll..._

Jamie held Leslie close to him again. He sang the last line so softly, he practically whispered it in her ear:

_And she's buying a stairway... to... Heaven..._

He kissed her. She kissed him back, and they wrapped their arms around each other. Floating in the hammock, caressed by the warm, dry summer breeze and lost in Jamie's arms, Leslie slipped beneath the waves of sweet peace. She let the riptide of nirvana carry her out to a vast and silent sea.

A droning, mechanical sound roused Leslie and Jamie out of a thin, dreamless sleep.

"That's the garage door," Jamie yawned. "Mom's back." He looked at his watch. "We've been napping for almost an hour."

"Yeah," Leslie said, smiling. "I know."

They got out of the hammock and helped Mrs. Byrne bring in and put away her groceries. Leslie hung out with Jamie in his room for a while, then it was time for her to go. Jamie walked her to the door. When they were sure the coast was clear, they exchanged a quick hug and kiss.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Jamie asked. "I mean, before the fireworks. You want to go swimming?"

"Sure!"

"Okay. I'll come by around nine."

"'Kay. Bye!"

Leslie took off running, across Jamie's street, then down the hill and into the woods, where she followed the path and ran down the old dirt road. As she ran, she replayed the events of the day in her mind. Meeting Uncle Steve, hearing Jamie play that wonderful music, laying down with him on the hammock... it all seemed unreal. She was so happy, she felt like she could fly. She spread her arms out like wings and ran faster, pretending that she was leaving the ground and soaring up, up, and into the bright blue summer sky.

When she got home, Grandma was making dinner. "Go wash up, honey," Grandma said. "Won't be long now."

During dinner, she told Leslie: "Your Aunt Joyce called while you were away. She invited you over for tomorrow. She'll pick you up after breakfast, around nine or so. They have a big cookout every Fourth. You'll go to the parade with them, too. Joyce will have you back here in plenty of time to meet your Aunt May Belle for the fireworks."

_Well, there goes swimming with Jamie at the Cove_, Leslie thought. At least he'd be going with her to the fireworks – Aunt May Belle had invited him. Aunt Joyce hadn't invited Jamie to come along to her house and the parade, and Leslie didn't feel right asking if he could come. She didn't want to be rude.

When she called Jamie to tell him she couldn't go swimming with him after all, he understood. He was too mature to whine and complain when things didn't go his way. Even when he lost his piano lessons, he didn't whine about it or feel sorry for himself – even though his father's decision had hurt him deeply.

Later that night, when she went to bed, Leslie had trouble falling asleep. She tried to concentrate on the wonderful time she had with Jamie. In her mind, she replayed the memory of laying in the hammock with him, listening to him sing Stairway To Heaven. It was no good. She couldn't help thinking about the big day she'd have tomorrow with her aunts and their families.

Between Aunt May Belle and Aunt Joyce, Leslie had five cousins. Aunt Joyce had two sons – Matt and Cody. Matt was two years older than Leslie. The last time she'd seen him, Matt was nine years old. She remembered that he'd been nice to her and they'd gotten along well. Cody was only three years old at the time. Sometimes, three year olds can be bratty, but Cody was sweet and cute as a button.

Aunt May Belle had a son and two daughters, Leslie's cousins Keith, Rachel, and Abbie. Keith was three years older, Rachel was the same age as Leslie, and Abbie was the baby – but not anymore. She had to be about five now.

Leslie was nervous about seeing her cousins again. She was a loner at heart, like her father. Being around a lot of people made her uncomfortable, even if those people were her relatives. Between Aunt Brenda and Aunt Ellie's families, Leslie had even more cousins. Once, when she was eight, she met them when Aunt Brenda and Aunt Ellie both came to Lark Creek to visit Grandma and Grandpa. Dad hadn't seen his older sisters in a long time, so he drove up with Leslie in tow. Mom didn't come with them.

While Dad and his parents spent hours inside drinking coffee and talking to Aunt Brenda and Aunt Ellie, Leslie watched her cousins play outside, kicking around a soccer ball, playing touch football, or whatever else they could do to pass the time. These cousins were all older than her. They didn't ask her if she wanted to play with them, and she didn't want to play. So she kept to herself.

_Oh, if only I had met Jamie then..._

Finally, somehow, she managed to fall asleep.

The next morning, Leslie didn't say much at breakfast. After she showered and dressed, Grandma asked her: "Did you have a rough night, dear? You've been quiet as a mouse this morning."

"No, I'm okay."

"I hope so. You've got a big day ahead of you. Oh, and don't forget to bring your bathing suit."

"My suit? Why?"

"Your Aunt Joyce and Uncle Hank have that nice fancy pool – don't you want to go swimming?"

_Yes, _she wanted to say, _with Jamie at the Enchanted Cove. _"Oh. Sure," Leslie said. "I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me."

After Grandma left the room, Leslie bowed her head and sighed. Then she opened a dresser drawer, and took out her bathing suit. She changed clothes, putting the bathing suit on and a t-shirt and shorts over it.

"Leslie!" Grandma called out. "Your Aunt Joyce is here!"

_You can get through this, _Leslie told herself. _Just think about going to the fireworks with Jamie._

Aunt Joyce was in the living room talking to Grandma. She smiled at Leslie. "Hi, honey – y'all ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"I'll have her back for dinner, Momma," Aunt Joyce said to Grandma.

"See you later, then. Have fun, Leslie."

Leslie followed Aunt Joyce out the door, where her shiny, silver Lexus was parked in the driveway. Aunt Joyce pressed a button on her key chain. The car beeped and the door locks opened. They got in, buckled up, and took off.

"This is a nice car, Aunt Joyce," Leslie said. She especially liked the high-tech dashboard, which had an on-board computer and a CD player that could also play MP3s. It reminded her of the dashboard in her father's car.

"It is nice," said Aunt Joyce. "It's pretty to look at, it's got lots of cool bells and whistles, and it rides like a dream. But it also guzzles gas like a drunken sailor. I wanted a Toyota Prius, but you know your Uncle Hank. There was no way in hell he'd buy a Japanese car when there are plenty of good American cars available. Of course, now with the price of gas going through the roof..."

"You don't have to worry about that much."

"No... at least, not yet. In between my job and your uncle's job, we do pretty well. You know, he used to complain about me working. He's one of those old-fashioned men who believes that women should stay home and raise the kids. He doesn't complain anymore, though. The economy is getting real bad, honey. Hank's really worried. He thinks we're in for a major economic disaster. If not this year, then next year for sure."

"Wow. Well, he should know. He is an investment broker."

"And he's worried that when it all hits the fan, he'll be among the first to get laid off. He hasn't been himself lately. I'm sorry, Leslie, I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems. Lord knows you've got enough of your own. I really hope things work out between Jess and Sara. I'd hate to see them split up."

"Me too."

"So... how are things going between you and Jamie?"

"Aunt Joyce..."

"Oh, there's nothing like being young and in love..."

_Oh, god..._ Leslie thought. _Are we there yet? Please let this ride be over soon..._

Leslie stared blankly through the windshield, watching roads and trees and creek inlets go by. Finally, Aunt Joyce said, "Here we are."

They drove into a nice neighborhood with expensive-looking homes and lushly green, well cared for lawns. Halfway around the block, they pulled into the driveway of a familiar house. Aunt Joyce pressed a button on a small plastic box attached to her visor. The garage door opened. There was an SUV parked in one section of the two-car garage.

"The boys should be in the pool – or out on the patio."

After they parked, Leslie followed Aunt Joyce through the garage and the door that led to the small alcove between the kitchen and the patio doors. There was nobody out on the patio. Leslie went through the patio and out on the deck. She saw her cousins splashing in the big in-ground pool.

"Leslie! Well, we haven't seen _you_ in a while!"

It was Uncle Hank. He was down on his knees, attaching the hose of the second propane tank on his huge, shiny metal gas grill. The first tank was already connected.

"Hi, Uncle Hank."

"Don't mind me, I'm just getting ready for the cookout. We'll be having burgers, hot dogs, cube steak, grilled corn on the cob, French fries. I hope you work up a good appetite at the parade. Why don't you go and have a swim with your cousins before you leave for the parade?"

"Okay. Thanks for inviting me over."

Leslie stared at her uncle for a moment. He was in his late 30s, but looked much older. His hair was thinning, and he looked tired – worn out was a better description. Being an investment broker must be a very stressful occupation. If the economy gets worse like Uncle Hank said it would...

Voices in the distance were calling her name. Leslie trotted down the deck steps and out into the pool area, where her cousins were motioning for her to join them. Matt climbed out of the pool and walked over to her.

"Leslie! Hi!"

He threw his arms around her and gave her a crunching hug. "It's great to see you again!"

"Oof! Hi! It's great to see you, too, Matt."

Leslie looked him over. Matt was only two years older than Leslie, but he'd grown a few inches taller since the last time she saw him. His hair, a light shade between blond and brown, was almost as long as hers. He had a golden suntan that showed off his developing physique. He was getting the body of an Olympic swimmer – built more for endurance than strength. His eyes were sparkling amber like hers. They were very kind eyes, just like she remembered. There was something else about him – something new.

"Are those earrings?"

"Yep. Cool, eh? They look like real diamond studs, don't they? You should have seen the look on my dad's face when I got back from the Piercing Pagoda. He totally freaked out! The best part was when he took me hunting and all his buddies saw them."

"You don't like hunting, do you?"

"I hate it. I don't want to shoot animals. But Dad still drags me along. Fortunately, I'm a real good shot, so when I miss, it doesn't look like I'm doing it on purpose. Dad's buddies joke about how I couldn't hit the side of a barn. Little do they know." He gave her a wink.

"Leslie! Leslie! Leslie!" Cody had gotten out of the pool and was bouncing around her like a jumping bean. She bent down and he wrapped his little arms around her. She kissed him on the cheek. His face flushed bright red and he wiggled out of the hug. Then he pinched his nose closed with his thumb and index finger and took a running leap into the pool.

"He is so adorable!"

"As little brothers go, I could do worse," said Matt. "Come on and swim. You can change in the cabana."

"I've got my suit on under my clothes. But we're going to be leaving for the parade soon, so I think I'll just lay down on a lounge chair for a while."

"Okay. I'll join you."

"What about Cody?"

"He swims like a fish, but I'll keep an eye on him anyway."

Matt pulled two lounge chairs up next to each other so he and Leslie could lay down. Leslie lay back in her chair and yawned.

"Tired?"

"A little."

"I heard about Uncle Jess and Aunt Sara. You think they'll split up?"

"I don't know."

"You should come up more often. We could hang out."

"I'd like that."

"How do you like staying with Grandma and Grandpa?"

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It's nice and quiet. I got to see some of my dad's things from when he was a kid."

"Yeah, but they don't have a computer. And your cell phone probably doesn't work in Lark Creek. Here in Millsburg, the signal's stronger – depending on who your provider is."

"Well, I don't really need my cell phone here. And I used Jamie's computer -"

"Jamie? Who's Jamie?"

"Jamie Byrne. He lives near Grandma and Grandpa. He's my age, and he goes to Lark Creek Elementary. He's my... friend."

"His uncle's the music teacher, right? I remember Mr. Byrne. He was pretty cool."

"Do you know Jamie?"

"Not really. His brother Zack is the star pitcher on the high school baseball team. I heard Jamie was some kind of musical genius – and a weirdo."

"He's not a weirdo!"

"Hey, don't have a cow – I don't know the guy, that's just what I heard."

"Why does everybody have to put him down? If they knew him like I do -"

"You really like him, don't you?"

Leslie tried to answer Matt, but she froze up. She just couldn't find the words to express her feelings.

"Cody! Co-deee!" Aunt Joyce called out. She was standing on the deck. Cody's head popped up from underwater and looked at her.

"Cody honey, come inside! I have to give you your ear drops, then we're leaving for the parade!"

Cody swam to the ladder, climbed out of the pool, and ran to his mother.

"Ear drops?" Leslie asked Matt.

"To unclog his ears after he swims. He gets ear infections real easy. And he hates to wear ear plugs."

Matt got up and wrapped a towel around his waist. "My suit's too wet. I'll have to dry off and change."

Leslie followed him into the house. "I'll wait for you guys in the living room."

Later, Matt and Cody came into the living room wearing t-shirts, shorts, and sneakers. Leslie and Aunt Joyce had been sitting on the sofa, waiting for them.

"Are we ready to go?" Aunt Joyce asked.

"What about Uncle Hank?" asked Leslie.

"He's not into parades," Matt answered.

They piled into the SUV and drove off.

The parade was okay, as parades go. There were marching bands, jugglers, clowns, and flag bearers. Some marchers carried _Happy Fourth of July _banners. Some were dressed in Uncle Sam costumes, with fake white beards and big hats decorated with stars and stripes. One of them was a stilt walker, and the stilts made him look ten feet tall. Leslie was amazed that he didn't fall once, or even trip walking on those stilts.

"Whoa! Look, Leslie, look!" Cody squealed. He tugged on Leslie's shirt and pointed at the stilt walker.

"I see him. Is that cool or what?"

They got back around noon. Uncle Hank fired up the grill. Leslie had a hamburger. It was well done and had a delicious smoky flavor - Uncle Hank had put a pan full of hickory chips inside the grill. Matt also had a hamburger. Cody had a hot dog with all the trimmings. Aunt Joyce brought out a big bowl of salad and a pitcher of iced tea. They ate at the patio table.

After they rested a little while, Matt and Cody went swimming again. This time, Leslie joined them. They played water volleyball and had races and paddled around on the floats. And of course, they took turns diving off the diving board. Then, Leslie and Matt got out of the pool and laid down on the lounge chairs.

"I had a lot of fun today," Leslie told him. "I'm glad Aunt Joyce and Uncle Hank invited me over."

"Me, too. Hey, what's your e-mail address?"

"I'll write it down before I leave."

"Cool. And I'll give you mine."

"Um... Matt, don't you think you should talk to your dad and tell him how you feel about hunting?"

"I can't talk to _him_ about anything." Matt practically spat out the words. "He has a very short fuse. That's why I tell Cody to stay away from Dad and talk to _me_ if something's bugging him."

"Aunt Joyce told me that he hasn't been himself lately. Uncle Hank, I mean."

"That's what Mom always says, so if Dad loses it in front of company, they'll know why."

"Aunt Joyce says he's worried about the economy. That he'll be laid off from his job someday."

"Maybe, but he's always been... what do they call it... high strung. I think it's because of his job. He's an investment broker."

"I know."

"I guess it's a stressful job. But he better learn how to deal with it, or he'll end up losing it in front of the wrong people."

"So... what do _you_ do when he... loses it?"

"What Mom does. When Dad starts screaming, I just ignore him and leave the room. Cody does the same thing, but... Dad really scares him when he loses it."

Cody got out of the pool and ran over to Matt and Leslie.

"Speak of the devil," Matt laughed.

"Whatcha talking about?" asked Cody.

"Nothing. Just shooting the breeze," said Matt.

"Leslie! Les-leee!" a voice called out. Leslie turned to look at her aunt, who was standing on the deck. "It's time to go! I have to get you back to Grandma's for dinner!"

"Okay!" Leslie called back. "Well," she said to her cousins, "I gotta go. After dinner, Aunt May Belle's taking me to the fireworks. Will I see you guys there?"

"Nope," said Matt. Millsburg Stadium's only a few miles away. We can watch the fireworks from here."

"I better dry off a little before I put my clothes on over my suit," Leslie said. She grabbed a nearby towel and blotted herself. Matt grabbed a towel of his own.

"Here, let me help you."

"Wha?"

"Me too!" Cody chirped, and grabbed another towel.

Leslie's cousins blotted her from head to toe with their towels. They hit all her ticklish places, and she squealed with laughter. Matt and Cody started laughing, too. Soon, Leslie was laughing so hard that she felt it in her stomach.

"Wha! Stop! You're killing me! Hahahaha!"

"Okay, Cody, I think she's dry now," Matt laughed.

Cody giggled.

Leslie put on her shorts and t-shirt, then her socks and sneakers.

"Well, bye guys."

"Bye, Leslie," said Matt. He hugged her. They looked at each other for a moment. Matt was smiling, but she could see pain in his eyes.

Cody held out his little arms for a hug. Leslie hugged him. When she tried to kiss him, he moved his cheek out of the way. Then he smiled impishly at her. "Bye-bye," he said.

On the ride back to Grandma and Grandpa's house, Aunt Joyce asked, "So, did you have fun with your cousins?"

"Yeah! Thanks for inviting me."

"Sure, honey. I hope you come over again before you go home to Washington."

"I will," Leslie said, and she meant it - she had forgotten to give Matt her e-mail address. She thought about what he told her. He really had no one else he could talk to about it. Just as Leslie really had no one she could confide in about what was going on with her parents. She felt a familiar ache deep inside her. She wished she had an older brother like Matt. Cody was so lucky.

Before Aunt Joyce dropped her off, Leslie said, "Thanks again for inviting me over and taking me to the parade. I hope Uncle Hank feels better."

"So do I, honey," said Aunt Joyce. Then she sighed and stared off into space for a moment. "When you get older, you'll understand that when you love someone..."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud. Take care, honey."


	14. Chapter 14

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 14: A Night Of Dancing Stars

"So, did you enjoy yourself over at Aunt Joyce's?" asked Grandma.

Leslie savored her last bite of Grandma's tuna noodle casserole, swallowing it before answering her question. "Yeah. I had fun going to the parade and swimming with Cody and Matt."

"You see that boy's earrings?" Grandpa asked. "Times sure have changed." He smiled and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Then the smile left his face and he asked, "You see your Uncle Hank?"

Grandma looked nervous.

"Sure. We had a cookout and he made grilled hamburgers and hot dogs. I had a burger. It was _so_ delicious. He used hickory chips for smoking."

"Sounds good," said Grandpa. "So Hank was... okay, then?"

"Yeah. He looked tired, though."

Grandpa nodded. Then he took a sip of coffee.

_They knew,_ Leslie thought. _They knew about Uncle Hank's temper. So why didn't they say anything? I probably wouldn't have gone if they had, and then Aunt Joyce would have felt terrible._ She remembered the look on Aunt Joyce's face when she said that Uncle Hank hadn't "been himself lately" on the way to their house. And then when she brought Leslie back, she had stared off into space and said "When you get older, you'll understand that when you love someone..."

Poor Aunt Joyce.

Leslie didn't want to think about it anymore. She helped Grandma wash the dinner dishes. They were just about done when someone knocked on the door.

"That must be Jamie!" Leslie looked at her watch. If it was Jamie, he was early.

"Go on and answer the door, honey," said Grandma. "I'll finish up here."

It was Jamie. He wore a maroon t-shirt and khaki shorts with big front pockets.

"Hi, Leslie!"

"Hi! You're early. It's quarter to seven, and Aunt May Belle isn't picking us up for the fireworks until eight."

"I know. I thought we could hang out for a while before we leave."

"Cool! Come on in!"

Jamie said hello to Leslie's grandparents, then they went to her room and flopped down on her bed.

"So, did you have fun at your Aunt Joyce's house?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah. I went swimming with my cousins, Matt and Cody. Aunt Joyce and Uncle Hank have an in-ground pool. It's nice, but... I like swimming in the creek better."

"Me, too."

"Speaking of my cousins, you'll get to meet some of them tonight. Aunt May Belle is bringing along all her kids."

"Um, about that -"

The door opened, and Grandma walked in. Leslie and Jamie sat straight up on her bed.

"Would you kids like some of my peach cobbler?"

"No thanks, Grandma. We're going to get fried dough at the fireworks."

"Oh, I forgot about that. You know, I should teach you how to make homemade fried dough. It's not that hard to do. I used to make it for your daddy and his sisters when times were tight."

"That would be awesome! Thanks, Grandma!"

"Sure, honey. I'll leave you kids alone now."

After Grandma left, Leslie asked Jamie, "So, what were you going to say before Grandma came in?"

"Oh... nothing. It's not important."

They laid back down on the bed. Leslie stared up at the ceiling. She wanted to tell Jamie about Uncle Hank, and how nervous she was about visiting Aunt Joyce and her cousins again before she left for Washington. She couldn't do it. It wouldn't be fair to Aunt Joyce. So Leslie just stared at the ceiling, letting the thoughts whirl around inside her head like food in a blender.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Jamie asked.

"Huh?"

"You look like you've got something on your mind."

"Nah. Not really."

"You sure?"

Leslie nodded yes. "Hey, my grandparents have a deck of cards in their junk drawer. Wanna play?"

"Sure."

"What card games do you know? I can play poker."

"Okay, we'll play poker. Five card draw, seven card stud, or Texas hold 'em?"

"Whoa! Uh, let's stick to five card draw..."

They went to the kitchen. Jamie sat down at the table while Leslie got the deck of cards. It was a blue back Bicycle deck – Leslie's favorite. She sat down and took the cards out of the pack, leaving behind the Jokers and the card with the rules printed on it. She shuffled the cards and dealt hands to herself and Jamie.

Leslie had a pair of Kings to open with. She saved them and a ten of diamonds, discarding the other two cards. "I'll draw two," she said, and took two cards. She got another King! Her eyes went wide and she struggled to suppress a big smile.

"I'll take one," said Jamie. He discarded one card and took another from the deck.

"Okay," Leslie chimed. She threw down her cards. "Three Kings! What have _you_ got?"

Jamie shook his head in dismay. "All I have are two pairs," he said. "A pair of eights..." He threw down the cards. "and another pair of eights!" He threw down the rest of his hand.

Leslie's jaw dropped. "Four of a kind?! You got _four of a kind?!_ With luck like that, you should go to Las Vegas!"

"Just call me Jamie the Greek!" he laughed.

"What are you kids up to?" It was Grandpa. He put his empty coffee cup in the sink.

"We're playing poker, Grandpa," Leslie explained. "But just for fun, not for money or anything."

"Good idea. Your Grandma don't take too kind to gambling. She hates it when Joe Henshaw and I bet on the football games. Just friendly wagers, mind you." He winked at Leslie.

Grandpa left, and Leslie and Jamie played poker until just before eight. Then Leslie packed up the cards and put them away. Just as she closed the junk drawer, there was a knock at the front door.

"Aunt May Belle's here!"

Leslie and Jamie ran into the living room. Grandma opened the door.

"Hi, Momma!" Aunt May Belle hugged her mother, then asked, "Are the kids ready to go?"

"Oh, they've been chomping at the bit!"

"Hi, Mrs. Harvey," said Jamie. "Thanks again for inviting me along."

"Sure, Jamie. Anytime."

"Thanks for inviting me, too," said Leslie.

They followed Aunt May Belle out the door to her minivan. She slid open the side doors, and they climbed in. Leslie's cousin Keith was sitting up front, while Rachel and Abbie sat in the back. After she and Jamie buckled up, Aunt May Belle pulled out of the driveway. There was someone missing.

"Where's Uncle Dave?" Leslie asked.

"He's back home with his buddies. Every Fourth of July, he and Steve Byrne get their old band back together. They play some songs, drink some beers, and hang out while the wives talk and the kids play. It's kind of a tradition for them. Unfortunately, Steve's out of town this year, so they won't be playing any songs. But they'll still have some quality _guy time_."

Leslie decided to introduce Jamie to everyone else. "Jamie, these are my cousins. That's Keith up front -"

"Hey," Keith said, turning his head to look at Jamie.

"The little one is Abbie -"

"Hi!" the little girl chirped. Then to Leslie, she said, "He's cute! Is he your _boyfriend_?"

Leslie rolled her eyes. Keith and Rachel snickered.

Leslie pointed at Rachel and said, "And this is -"

"Hi, Jamie!"

"Hi, Rachel."

"You guys know each other?" Leslie asked.

"Duh!" said Rachel. "We were in the same fourth grade class – and in the orchestra, too."

Leslie turned to Jamie and said, "You never told me that."

"There's not much to tell. I only played in a few concerts. And even then, it was just for one piece."

"Mozart's Piano Concerto Number 21," Rachel added.

"Yeah," said Jamie. "Uncle Steve wanted me to play with the orchestra. The school has a piano - not a concert Baby Grand, of course - just a nice little Steinway upright. It has a great sound for an upright."

"I know," Rachel said. She had a dreamy look on her face. "Sometimes during lunch period, after I ate, I'd sneak down to the music room and listen to you play."

Jamie tensed up at her words and looked uncomfortable. "You listened to me?"

"Wait," Leslie interjected. "You ate lunch in the music room?"

"Yeah. The cafeteria's like a war zone at lunchtime. It gets so loud in there, you can't hear yourself think."

"You know, Leslie, when your daddy and I went to Lark Creek Elementary, the school didn't even _have_ a cafeteria - or a gymnasium," said Aunt May Belle. "Fortunately, the local economy picked up in the early 80's, and there was finally enough money to renovate the school."

"We know, Mom," said Rachel. "Anyway," she said to Jamie, "Yeah, I listened to you – and to Mr. Byrne when he played with you. Once, you guys were playing Claire De Lune, and Mr. Byrne played his electric guitar with a violin bow! But mostly you guys played jazz together."

"Yeah," Jamie agreed. "He was teaching me about improvisation. He says jazz is all about improvisation. You improvise around a basic written melody and rhythm."

"When I'd hear you play classical pieces, I'd want to play with you so bad... but..." Rachel blushed, unable to finish the sentence. She flashed him her sweetest cutie-pie smile. She was a carbon copy of her mother, with the same straw-colored hair, brown eyes, and freckles. Leslie struggled to keep her cool.

"So... what instrument do you play?" Leslie asked. "Violin?"

"Nope. Viola."

"Viola? Why the viola?"

"Because everybody plays violin."

"Isn't a viola bigger than a violin?"

"Yeah, but not so big that you can't hold it under your chin. It has a deeper, richer sound than a violin, but not as deep as the cello or bass. Mr. Byrne says that the violin is the milk of the string section and the viola is the cream. I love my viola. And it's so much much fun playing in the orchestra."

"She's a really good violist," Jamie said to Leslie. "And the only one in the orchestra."

"Thanks, Jamie." Rachel said, and smiled warmly at him. Leslie felt her stomach start turning again. She wanted desperately to change the subject, but she had to ask him:

"So, was it your uncle's idea for you to play with the orchestra?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to, but Uncle Steve said it was a great opportunity for me. He said I knew the concerto so well that I could play it blindfolded. But man, was I nervous. I never played in front of an audience before. I thought sure I'd freeze up, but I didn't. I was okay."

"Okay?" Rachel said incredulously. _Okay?_ You were brilliant! You got a standing ovation every time!"

Jamie looked more uncomfortable than ever, as if Rachel had just blurted out an embarrassing secret. He said nothing and just sat there, wringing his hands and looking down at his feet.

"Wow," said Leslie. "A standing ovation? Really? After they saw _that_, I bet your parents were sorry they made you stop taking your piano lessons."

Jamie looked at her with the same pained expression she'd seen on his face when he first told her about his lessons. "They didn't come to the concerts."

"What? Why not?"

The first two concerts were on the same night as Zack's baseball games. They had made plans to go to the games before I joined the orchestra. The last one... well, I don't think they're into classical music. Uncle Steve drove me to all three concerts."

"Well, maybe next time -"

"There won't _be_ a next time."

Jamie couldn't bring himself to say why. So Rachel explained for him:

"After the third concert, some of the parents started complaining. They accused Mr. Byrne of playing favorites. They said he was trying to make his nephew the star of the orchestra at the expense of _their_ kids. Gimme a break! They were just jealous because Jamie's the best. It's not _his_ fault that he's a musical genius!"

Jamie rolled his eyes and turned beet red. The look on his face said _Rachel, will you __**please **__just __**shut up!**_

"And you know what _really_ makes me mad? Mr. Byrne was putting together a chamber group, and _I_ was going to be in it. It was gonna be Stephanie Li and Courtney Jones on violin, me on viola, Paul Rosner on cello, and Jamie on piano. We would have had _so_ much fun playing together! Those stupid jealous -"

"Now honey," Aunt May Belle chided. "I didn't like it any more than you did. Lord knows I've locked horns with the principal on more than one occasion, but complaining isn't going to change things. I wished I had been there to see you play, Jamie. I was busy those nights, so Dave went with Rachel instead. I try to make it to all the concerts when I can."

"Did you know that Mr. Byrne was going to quit his job in protest?" Rachel said to Leslie.

"Thank god he didn't," said Aunt May Belle. "He's a great music teacher, the best since my old teacher, Miss Edmunds. If he quit, he'd just be punishing lots of innocent kids. And quitting your job when you have a wife, two little girls, and a mortgage to think about is a damn fool thing to do – especially these days. I respect his integrity, though. Long as I've known Steve, he's always stood up for what he believed in. But sometimes, standing up for your beliefs is a luxury you can't afford."

"It's still not fair," Rachel groused. "The school won't even pay to keep the piano tuned."

"That's because the district is on an austerity budget again," Jamie explained. "Now that I'm no longer playing with the orchestra, Uncle Steve can't justify the expense of a monthly tuning. He has to settle for a tuning once or maybe twice a year if he can find the money in his budget. That's good enough for elementary school music classes, but if a piano is going to be played frequently at rehearsals and concerts, you have to get it tuned once a month."

"How much does it cost to tune a piano?" Leslie asked.

"Well, you know how a piano works, right?"

"Sure. When you tap a key, it makes a hammer hit a string."

"Right. Well, to tune a piano, you have to pay a professional tuner to take it apart and tune it up. It usually costs about a hundred dollars for the tuning alone – more if the tuner has to replace broken strings or hammers or whatnot."

"Wow," Rachel gasped. "A hundred dollars or more? I'm glad I can tune my viola myself. All I have to do is twiddle the tuning pegs."

"Well," said Leslie, "at least your electronic keyboard never goes out of tune. But you can't very well play an electronic keyboard with an orchestra – even a professional quality keyboard like yours."

Jamie shook his head no.

"Electronic keyboard or not, I still wouldn't mind playing with you, Jamie," said Rachel. "Maybe we could get together sometime and play." She smiled at him. Leslie felt the bile rise up to the back of her throat.

"So Mom," Rachel asked. "Will Jamie and I be in _your_ class this year?"

"Oh, I _hope_ I don't get Mr. Sourpuss," Jamie lamented.

"Mr. _Sourpuss_?" Leslie snickered. Rachel and Abbie also laughed.

"He means Mr. Sauerschmidt, the other fifth grade teacher," said Aunt May Belle. "He's a good teacher, but... well... he's not exactly the warmest or friendliest person."

"Don't worry, Jamie," said Rachel. "I'm sure my mom can pull some strings and get us in her class."

"Now, Rachel, you know I can't do that. The principal decides what kids go to what teachers. We don't pick 'em, we just teach 'em. Well, here we are, kids – Millsburg Stadium!"

Leslie could see the stadium as Aunt May Belle turned to an adjacent parking lot. After they parked and got out, Leslie had a better view. It wasn't nearly as big as the stadiums that professional football teams played in, but the field looked regulation size. The goal posts had been removed, and the turf was covered to protect it. The field was surrounded by a brown clay running track with white lane markings. In the middle of the field was a stand where workers were preparing the fireworks for launch.

On the way to the front gate, Leslie saw that the ticket windows were all closed. Then she remembered that the fireworks were a free show – except for the food and drinks. They walked through the gate, and Aunt May Belle said, "We got here in plenty of time to get bleacher seats. We won't have to go back to the minivan for the lawn chairs."

Aunt May Belle led them in a brisk walk to a section of bleachers. They found seats in the seventh row. Leslie looked out at the field and wondered if this section was on the fifty yard line. They really lucked out – they had a perfect view of the fireworks stand.

"Okay, guys," said Aunt May Belle, "Does anyone have to go to the bathroom?"

"Me! Me, Mommy!" Abbie chirped.

"I better go too," said Keith.

"I'm fine," said Rachel.

"Me too," said Leslie.

"So am I," said Jamie.

"Okay, then. After we get back from the bathroom, we'll get some food-"

"No," Jamie interrupted. "_I'll_ get us some food while you're gone. Fried dough for everyone – my treat!"

"That's sweet of you to offer, Jamie, but I couldn't -"

He wouldn't take no for an answer. Jamie was off and running to the concession stands before Aunt May Belle could finish her sentence.

"Well... okay then," Aunt May Belle sighed. Then she chuckled. "Rachel, Leslie, you save our seats. We'll be back."

"Okay, Mom," said Rachel.

After they left, Rachel said to Leslie, "So?"

"So what?"

"Is he or isn't he?"

"Is who what?"

"Leslie, is Jamie your boyfriend or not?"

"Rachel..."

"Hey, if you don't want him, I'll take him. He is _so_ cute! And brilliant, and -"

"Oh, knock it off, Rachel!"

Rachel flashed a huge Cheshire cat grin. "You _do _like him, don't you?"

Leslie sighed. "Yes," she said. "I like him. A lot."

"So, how did you guys meet?"

"I was walking in the woods and I sat down to rest on this huge tree stump. I didn't know it, but Jamie was sitting up on a branch in the tree next to me. When he said hello, I kind of freaked out."

"Then what happened?"

"We got to talking and we became friends. Then we went to his house and he showed me his room -"

"You walked all the way there from Grandma and Grandpa's house? That's a long walk!"

"I like to walk."

"Did you go to Terabithia?"

"No. Dad took me there once, when I was six. I don't need to see it again."

"Why not?"

"I just don't, that's why."

"So, what happened after you got to Jamie's house?"

"Nothing much. I met his family, he played me a song on the keyboard, and we used his computer..."

"He played you a song? I am so jealous!"

"Anyway... we've been hanging out for a while now. He's the best friend I ever had. Without him, I don't know how I'd have gotten through... well, you know about my parents, right?"

"Yeah. I hope Uncle Jess and Aunt Sara don't get divorced. I really mean that."

"Thanks. I hope they don't either, but... I shouldn't get my hopes up."

"They're back," Rachel said. She pointed at Aunt May Belle, Abbie, and Keith, who were making their way toward the bleachers.

Leslie looked for Jamie, but she didn't see him.

After they were settled in their seats, Aunt May Belle asked, "Where's Jamie?"

"He's not back yet," said Rachel.

Leslie was starting to worry about him. What if he got lost, or mugged or something? What if he got kidnapped?

For the next ten minutes, Leslie kept checking her watch and looking around for Jamie. Dread welled up inside her like hot lava in a volcano. She tried to distract herself by listening to the music that blared from the PA system. Popular sports anthems were looped together, songs like _We Will Rock You, We Are The Champions, _and of course, _Who Let The Dogs Out? _Just as Leslie was about to start panicking, Aunt May Belle said, "There he is!"

Leslie's eyes zoomed in on Jamie as he walked slowly toward their section of the bleachers. He carried a big, swollen paper grocery bag under each arm. There were oil stains on both bags. He kept moving until he reached their seats.

"Fried dough here – get it while it's hot!"

He gave one of the bags to Aunt May Belle and held on to the other. Keith and Abbie took pieces of fried dough from their mother's bag, while Rachel, Leslie, and Jamie took pieces from his. The dough was fried to a deep golden brown and sprinkled with powdered sugar. It smelled heavenly, the aroma a marriage of hot cooking oil, fresh baked bread, and sugar. Leslie took a big bite.

"Mmmm! This is so good! Thanks, Jamie!"

Leslie's cousins mumbled their thanks through full mouths. "Yes, thanks very much for treating us, Jamie," said Aunt May Belle.

"Thanks for inviting me," Jamie said.

After she finished her fried dough, Leslie said, "I was getting worried about you, Jamie. What took you so long?"

"There was a line at the fried dough stand, and I had a big order. Oh man, if I hear _Who Let The Dogs Out _one more time..."

The curtains of dusk were closing, darkening the night sky so the stars could come out to shine. It was a clear night, so Leslie could see them all – from the huge North Star to the tiniest orange pulsar. She saw the Big and Little Dippers, and all the other constellations. She wondered what it would be like to lay with Jamie in his hammock on a night like this, just the two of them together, gazing up at the majesty of the cosmos.

The stadium lights dimmed. A small spotlight was cast on a man near the fireworks stand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the Fourth of July Fireworks Extravaganza here at Millsburg Stadium, the home of your Millsburg Marauders!" the announcer proclaimed. "Now will you all rise for our National Anthem!"

The announcer gave his microphone to a woman in a sparkling dress. She started to sing:

_Oh, say can you see  
by the dawn's early light  
what so proudly we hailed  
at the twilight's last gleaming._

_Whose broad stripes and bright stars  
through the perilous fight,  
o'er the ramparts we watched  
were so gallantly streaming._

_And the rockets' red glare,  
the bombs bursting in air,  
gave proof through the night  
that our flag was still there._

_O say does that star spangled banner yet wave  
o'er the land of the free... and the home of the brave!_

The singer gave the microphone back to the announcer and took a bow. After the applause died down, the announcer said, "Okay, here we go! Count down with me! Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two... one!"

The spotlight on the announcer was switched off as the first rocket streaked up into the sky. Another rocket was fired, and then another. They exploded one after the other, showering the night sky in bright red, white, and blue sparks that swirled and zigzagged about before falling to the earth. Two more rockets were fired. They exploded in a hail of glittering reddish gold sparks that streaked across the sky like shooting stars, leaving trails of glitter behind them. The fantastic displays were underscored by marching band music that blared from the PA system. The first song was _The Stars And Stripes Forever._

Leslie felt a rush of excitement coarse through her. She looked at Jamie. They smiled at each other. She looked at her cousins. Keith and Rachel were paying attention to the fireworks. Abbie was jumping up and down, tugging on her mother's blouse and pointing up at the sky.

While she watched the fireworks, Leslie kept a hand down at her side, hovering near Jamie. She hoped he'd find it. Huge Roman candles were fired. Silent bouquets of flower petal-like sparks suddenly bloomed in the sky in bright pastel colors and floated down to earth. An impossibly bright flash of white light was followed by a thunderously loud report. Leslie felt in in her ears.

More skyrockets lit up the night, then she saw the white light flash again. Just as the monstrous report exploded above, Leslie felt a warm hand below hold hers. She jumped back in her seat and clutched the hand. She looked at Jamie. He smiled at her and gave her a wink.

They held hands through the rest of the fireworks and fed each other bites of fried dough. Leslie felt just as lit up inside as the display she saw outside. She didn't want it to end, but soon, the time came for the finale. Dozens of rockets were launched at the same time, turning the night sky into a kaleidoscope of sparkling colors. There were comets that burst out tendrils of stars, stars that formed rings and hearts and other shapes, and stars that danced. Oh, how they danced in the celestial ballet!

More and more rockets were launched, one after the other. It seemed like it would never end.

But it did. Like all good things, the Millsburg Stadium Fourth of July Fireworks Extravaganza came to end. The night sky was still and silent and dark again. The stadium lights came back on, and people started to leave.

Leslie, her aunt and cousins, and Jamie made their way out of the bleachers, making sure to pick up their trash and throw it out on their way to the parking lot. They got into the minivan and Aunt May Belle started the ignition, turned on the headlights, and pulled out.

"Well, kids, I hope you had fun tonight. Wasn't that a great show?"

"Yeah!"

"Cool!"

"Awesome!"

Leslie and Jamie looked at each other and smiled.

"Thanks again for the fried dough, Jamie," said Rachel.

"Yeah, thanks," said Keith.

"It was yummy," said Abbie, and yawned.

"Someone's ready for bed," said Aunt May Belle. "But first, we have to take Jamie home and Leslie to Grandma and Grandpa's."

"So Leslie, do you think we'll have time to hang out again before you go back to D.C.?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah, come on over," said Keith. "I bet Dad would whip out his bass guitar and play a few riffs for you."

"And we could play Barbies," said Abbie.

"Yeah, I'll have time to come over and hang out before I leave. I was hoping to see Aunt Joyce and Matt and Cody again, too."

"Watch out for Uncle Hank," Keith advised.

"Keith..." Aunt May Belle chided.

As they drove on, Leslie watched the roads go by. Some of them were illuminated by streetlights. But everything looks different at night, and when Aunt Belle pulled into Jamie's neighborhood, Leslie didn't even recognize it. If it weren't for the minivan's bright headlights, she might not have recognized his street or even his house.

"Here you are Jamie," said Aunt May Belle.

"Okay. Thanks for inviting me to the fireworks, Mrs. Harvey."

"You're more than welcome, honey."

"Goodnight!"

They all said goodnight to him. Aunt May Belle waited until Jamie opened the front door and went inside before she left. When they arrived at her grandparents' house, Aunt May Belle walked her to the door. Grandma and Grandpa invited them all inside for a snack, but Aunt May Belle said no, she had to get Abbie home. Leslie thanked her aunt again, then she went to her room and got dressed for bed.

She went to sleep that night with a new sense of hope. She had been nervous about seeing her aunts and cousins, but she was glad now that she did. It felt good to be around family. In D.C., she had no one but her parents. Now, she had her grandparents, her aunts, and her cousins. She wondered about Rachel, though. She obviously had a huge crush on Jamie. What would happen when Leslie went back to D.C. and Jamie was left alone? Would Rachel take advantage and try to steal him away? Rachel didn't seem like the kind of girl who would do something like that, especially to her own cousin.

_No, she wouldn't... would she?_

Leslie didn't want to think about that. All she wanted to think about was Jamie, and how wonderful it was to be with him at the fireworks, holding his hand in the night, under the dancing stars.

Just thinking about it made her feel warm inside.


	15. Chapter 15

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 15: The King Returns

The next morning at breakfast, Leslie sat down at the table with a smile on her face, the memories of the fireworks show still flickering in the back of her mind. It had been an incredible night, something she would remember forever. She was happy – really, really happy – for the first time in... God knows how long. There were no anxieties gripping her body and churning her gut. She was high on her own inner peace. She hoped she would never come down.

"Morning, Grandma! Morning Grandpa!" Leslie chirped.

"Well, you're pretty chipper this morning," said Grandpa. He smiled at her and sipped his coffee. Grandma brought over a potful of her Southern style oatmeal and filled their bowls. Then she cut three pats of butter and topped each one.

Leslie stirred her butter pat into her oatmeal. The aroma of buttery oatmeal with brown sugar made her stomach rumble. She dug right in.

Grandma and Grandpa did the same. After she finished her first bite, Grandma said, "Your daddy called last night while you were at the fireworks. He and your momma snuck in and used the director's phone again. I was going to tell you, but it was after ten when you came home, and you went right to bed. I figured it could wait till morning."

Leslie felt her anxieties start to simmer. "What did they say?"

"They asked if you went to the fireworks. It was your daddy's idea for your Aunt May Belle to take you. They talked about it before he drove you up. He knew how much you loved going to the big show in Washington with him and your momma. I told him you went to the Millsburg show with your aunt and your cousins and Jamie."

"I had a lot of fun. I wish I could have gone with Mom and Dad, but... what else did they say? How's the retreat going?"

"They didn't say much about it. They couldn't talk for long. They said to tell you that they love you and they miss you. They think about you every day. They should be back in a week."

_In other words, Don't get your hopes up, _Leslie thought to herself.

After breakfast, she showered and dressed. While she brushed her hair, Leslie took a good hard look at herself in her father's old mirror. _Okay,_ she said to herself. _You've got one more week left before... before they come back to get you. One more week to be with Jamie. Last night was one the best nights of your life, and this could be the best week of your life. Are you going to waste it worrying about the inevitable? No. You're going to enjoy it. You need this. And after all you've been through, you deserve a little happiness._

Leslie made a silent vow to enjoy herself during the time she had left in Lark Creek. The butterflies of anxiety inside her calmed down, the fluttering of their wings slowed to a stop. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and cleared her mind. She thought about Jamie and felt herself smile.

It really was the best week of her life. Leslie spent most of the time with Jamie. When they weren't swimming at the Enchanted Cove, they were at his house or her grandparents' house. At Jamie's house, he would play for her on the keyboard. Once, she got him to play Mozart's Piano Concerto #21 for her – the piece he had played with the elementary school orchestra. He said it wouldn't be the same without the other instruments, but Leslie didn't care. She wanted to hear it. She pulled her chair close to his, and he played for her.

Rachel was right – he _was_ a musical genius. He played the concerto perfectly, and though the sheet music was in front of him, he barely looked at it while he played. Most of the time, he looked at his hands and the keys. Sometimes, he closed his eyes. His lips moved with the rhythm of the music, like a silent metronome. Sometimes his whole body moved with the passion he put into the music. Leslie let the beautiful melody wrap itself around her like a warm blanket.

When Jamie wasn't playing for Leslie, they were either on his computer chatting with Emma and Doug and the other regulars on the #Terabithia chat channel, or napping outside on the hammock.

At Leslie's grandparents' house, she and Jamie spent more time in the attic, looking through the box of her father's childhood treasures and other odds and ends that Grandma and Grandpa kept up there. One day, they found a jigsaw puzzle. It was a 2,000 piece puzzle, in its original box. The picture on the cover was a beautiful seascape, with a lighthouse on a rocky shore, seagulls in the bright blue sky, and ships on the gleaming ocean.

Grandma explained that Aunt Ellie had won the puzzle at a penny social when she was Leslie's age. A penny social is a big raffle where many different prizes are raffled off at the same time, with the proceeds usually going to charity. The prizes are displayed on several tables. You buy a bunch of tickets and put a ticket into the raffle box of whatever prize you'd like to win. The more tickets you put into a box, the better your chance of winning the prize. It's called a _penny social_ because in the old days, it was a big social event and the tickets only cost a penny each.

Aunt Ellie loved the puzzle, but it didn't fit into the Rubbermaid box of her childhood treasures, so Grandma stored it separately in the attic. Finding it was a stroke of luck; it had been raining hard that day, so it gave Leslie and Jamie something to do. Grandma made them some popcorn to nibble on while they put the puzzle together. They were careful not to lose any of the pieces or get them dirty. It was a lot of fun, watching the beautiful scene take shape and looking for the next piece to put in.

On Sunday, Leslie went to Aunt May Belle's house for a visit. She couldn't see Jamie because of his parents' "family day" rule, so when Aunt May Belle called after dinner on Saturday night to invite her, Leslie accepted. Besides, she had told her cousins that she'd come over before she went home to Washington.

Aunt May Belle's house wasn't as fancy as Aunt Joyce's, but it was nice enough. They didn't have a big in-ground pool, but there was an above-ground pool in the backyard to swim in. Once again, Leslie wore her bathing suit under her clothes. After swimming for a while, she and Rachel decided to take a break. They pulled the two floats off the small deck by the ladder and onto the water. Then they climbed aboard for a rest.

Abbie came out in her pink Barbie bathing suit and floaties. She climbed the ladder and dove off the deck, dousing Rachel with a splash of water.

"Abbie!" Rachel cried, "Watch it!" Leslie chuckled.

Abbie dog-paddled over to Rachel's float. "I wanna get on, too," she whined. Rachel groaned and hoisted her little sister up and onto the float, balancing Abbie on her lap so the float wouldn't sink.

"You are _so_ lucky to be an only child," Rachel said to Leslie.

"I guess Keith isn't coming out."

"Nah, he's too busy playing Halo 3 on Xbox Live with some guy in Amsterdam named Dieter."

"On a day like this?"

"You know boys and their video games. Speaking of boys... how are things going with Jamie?"

"Rachel..." Leslie didn't want talk about it, especially in front of Abbie.

Abbie giggled. "I saw you guys holding hands at the fireworks."

"Abbie..." Rachel chided.

"Leslie and Jamie, sitting in a tree -" Rachel clapped a hand over her sister's mouth. "Hmph-mmph-hmph-hmph-mmph-mmph-hmph..."

"Five-year-olds," Rachel lamented.

Later, after they had changed clothes and eaten lunch, Rachel showed Leslie her room. She had a canopy bed with a menagerie of stuffed animals on the mattress, posters of Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers on her walls, and a desktop PC with a pink tower and widescreen monitor. In a corner of the room was a chair, a music stand with sheet music on it, and what looked like an oversize violin case.

"You wanna see my viola?"

"Okay."

Rachel went over and opened the case. She took out the viola – a beautiful dark reddish brown wooden instrument with a shiny finish – and its bow. She put her chin on the chin rest. "This is from a piece I've been working on – a sonata by Brahms."

She struck a staccato note across the strings, then the bow moved back and forth, weaving a rich and lovely melody that resonated from the instrument's core. The movements of the bow made Leslie think of needles knitting strands of yarn into a beautiful sweater. Rachel's fingers moved quickly and smoothly up and down the neck of the viola. There were no frets, and she didn't need them, anyway. She found all the right notes. Leslie had to admit that her cousin would have made a great addition to a chamber group with Jamie.

She was a very good musician.

But Jamie was a prodigy. He didn't need to keep his eyes glued to the sheet music like Rachel. And he could easily play the most complex pieces.

Rachel stopped playing. "So, what do you think?"

"That was great! Mr. Byrne was right, the viola is the cream of the string section. That's how the notes sounded – creamy."

"Yup. That's why I love my viola."

"How long do you practice?"

"At least an hour day. Sometimes two. But... I could practice 24 hours a day and still never be as good as Jamie. I'm out of his league. In more ways than one."

"Oh come on, Rachel. Don't put yourself down."

"He only played three concerts, but we spent a lot of time together, rehearsing for each one. You know, with the rest of the orchestra. The piano was right next to the string section, and he didn't even notice me. We were in the same fourth grade class for a whole year and he didn't notice me. You were only here for a couple of days -"

"You act like he's the only fish in the sea."

"The other boys are so immature."

"Give them a chance, Rachel. Give _yourself_ a chance."

"What are you going to do when you go back to Washington? That's at least an hour's drive away from Lark Creek. What's going to happen to you and Jamie when you can only see each other when you come up to visit Grandma and Grandpa?"

"I don't know. I don't want to think about it."

"Well... don't worry, I won't try to steal him away," Rachel said, smiling. "I guess I'm just not his type. But I'm still jealous of you."

Leslie was relieved that her cousin had no intention of trying to steal Jamie away from her. But Rachel did have a point – what _would_ happen when Leslie went home to Washington? It was a question she couldn't bear to ponder, even as the days passed.

And now, as she and Jamie walked past the tall corn silos on their way to the Enchanted Cove for what would probably be the last time, Leslie still couldn't bear to think about going home. Her eyes surveyed the big farm and cow pasture on the left, and the cornfield on the right of the road. When they turned left and walked over the bridge, she took in every sight. She also took in the gentle whoosh of the waterfall and the earthy perfume of fresh water. Leslie wanted to keep the Enchanted Cove inside her forever.

She followed Jamie down the hill to their little stretch of beach. She set down their basket, unpacked the vinyl picnic blanket, and spread it out. Then they stripped down to their bathing suits, ran into the creek, and dove underwater.

When Leslie broke through the surface, she found that while she was still cold, she had finally gotten used to the water. It wasn't that bad anymore. Jamie popped up and smiled at her impishly.

"You want me to warm you up?"

"Nah. Well... maybe a little."

They swam toward the beach. When they were only waist-deep in the water, Jamie ran his hands up and down Leslie's arms. Then he wrapped his arms around her and drew her into a hug.

She didn't want to let him go. She didn't want to go home to Washington. She wanted to stay here – right here – with Jamie forever. It was _their_ place, their own little slice of heaven. She wanted it so bad that she ached inside. She ached for Jamie. She needed him desperately. She wouldn't survive her parents' divorce without him. He was the only one who ever understood her. The only one who truly loved her. And soon, she would have to leave him behind.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

She gazed into his sparkling blue eyes. She couldn't tell him what she was thinking. She just couldn't.

"Oh, nothing. C'mon, let's go swimming."

They swam around the cove and under the bridge, then all the way around the houses on the other side. Then they swam back. They dove underwater and glided hand-in-and through the depths before breaking through the surface and racing each other back to their little beach.

Leslie had made their lunch. Peanut butter and apricot preserves on homemade bread. There were potato chips for a snack, some of Grandma's chewy homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert, and a thermos of iced tea to drink. After they ate, they rested. Leslie still couldn't bring herself to tell Jamie what had been on her mind, so she snuggled up with him on the blanket and listened to him talk about Chopin and MIDI software and whatever else was on _his_ mind.

They went for another swim and when Jamie swam to the waterfall, Leslie followed him. She ducked her head into the bubbling, whooshing cascade. Just then, something thunked her on the head. Something alive and slimy.

She pulled her head out of the waterfall. "Ewwww! Not again!"

Jamie broke up laughing. Leslie couldn't help but laugh herself. She wasn't really grossed out this time. She felt too good inside to be grossed out. She wasn't about to let an errant fish spoil this wonderful day.

On the way back to her grandparents' house, Leslie again took in the sights, paying attention to every detail – even to the fuzzy black-and-red caterpillar that crawled across the road near the big cow pasture. She was really going to miss Lark Creek. And her grandparents. And Jamie. She would miss him like crazy. She'd be lost without him. _Stop thinking about that,_ she scolded herself. _You've still got time._

They finally came to Jamie's neighborhood. They turned onto Jamie's street and walked all the way down to the dead end. Then they went down the hill and into the woods. They held hands as they walked down the old dirt road to Leslie's grandparents house.

They were just about there when Leslie saw it. The very sight of it made her stop dead in her tracks.

There was a car in her grandparents' driveway, parked behind Grandpa's old pickup.

A dusty little Italian sports car.

Her father's car.

_I always wanted a sports car like the Burkes had._

"Leslie? What's wrong?"

"That's my dad's car in the driveway."

"Really? Cool."

"But they _can't_ be here already..."

How could two weeks have gone by so fast? Leslie tried to think. In her mind, she counted the days. _Think... I got here on... but that would be... thirteen days. _ Not exactly two weeks, but almost. _They're here early. They didn't even call... I'll have to pack right away... I won't even have time to shower... and Jamie... oh no... not now... please..._

Leslie shut her eyes tight. _My mind is just playing tricks on me,_ she assured herself. _They're not back yet. It's just my imagination._

She opened her eyes.

The car was still there.

Leslie tried to walk, but her legs felt wobbly and her knees were shaking. She thought she was going to faint. Finally, she stopped.

"I can't go in there, Jamie. I just can't."

She felt tears welling in her eyes and fought them hard.

"You want me to go in with you?"

Leslie nodded yes. "Please?"

He smiled warmly.

When they reached the door, Leslie struggled to turn the knob.

The door opened. Leslie's hand tightened its grip on Jamie's as she walked into the house.

Her parents were sitting on the couch, her grandparents in their recliners. They were talking, but Leslie's brain couldn't process a single word. It was as though they were speaking a foreign language.

She walked toward them in slow, creeping steps. She clung to Jamie's hand for dear life.

That's when she saw it. The very sight of it made her stop dead in her tracks.

They were holding hands.

Her parents were holding hands.

It had been a long, long, _long_ time since Leslie had seen her parents hold hands.

Leslie shut her eyes tight. _My mind must be playing tricks on me,_ she assured herself. _They're not really holding hands. It's just my imagination._

She opened her eyes.

Her parents were still holding hands.

They saw her and smiled.

"Hey! There she is!" said Dad.

"Hi, honey!" cried Mom.

They got up and hugged her tight, first her mother, then her father.

Dad kissed her and said, "We really missed you, sweetie." Then he looked at Jamie. "So, this must be the famous Jamie! I'm Leslie's dad." He held out his hand and Jamie shook it.

"Hi, uh, Mr. Aarons.,." Jamie looked starstruck.

"And I'm Leslie's mom," said her mother. Jamie shook her hand, too.

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Aarons."

Mom turned to Leslie and said, "He _is_ cute!"

"Mom..."

Jamie blushed.

"So... what happens now?" Leslie asked her parents. "Are you going to get a-"

"No," Dad said firmly. "We're staying together. We're not going anywhere. Well... actually... you see... the retreat went so well that... when we got home, we sort of... booked a little trip. Kind of like a second honeymoon."

"We're spending a week at a resort in the Poconos," Mom added. "Our plane leaves tomorrow morning. You wouldn't mind spending some more time here in Lark Creek with Grandma and Grandpa, would you? I suppose you _could_ come with us if you wanted -"

"Oh, no, no, no! You guys need some time alone. You deserve a second honeymoon. So you go to the Poconos and have fun. I don't mind staying here. I like it here."

"Allright! It's settled then!" said Dad.

Leslie was so overcome with joy that she thought she might explode. Her heart was pounding. Her head was spinning. She had a million questions, but there was one that she really had to ask:

"Are you leaving right away?"

"Well, we can't stay long, but before we leave, there's a place I'd like to see. Want to go for a walk with me?"

Suddenly, Leslie's joy turned to horror.

"You want to go _there?_ Why, Dad?"

"I'd just like to see it again, that's all. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to. I won't be long."

_Yeah, right! If he thinks I'm letting him go to that... that __**place**__ alone, he's crazy!_

"I'll go," Leslie sighed.

"Can _I_ come?" Jamie asked.

"Sure," said Dad.

_Oh, thank god,_ Leslie thought. She needed Jamie now more than ever.

"You want to come too, hon?" Dad asked Mom.

"No, I think I'd rather stay here."

"Okay. Let's go, kids. Momma, Dad, Sara, we'll be back soon."

"Jesse... you be careful out there," said Grandma.

Dad laughed. "We will, Momma."

As they walked down the dirt road, Jamie said "Wow... I can't believe I'm going to Terabithia with Jess Aarons!"

"You're a fan?"

"He has all your books," Leslie said.

"Well, Jamie, I hear you've been very kind to my daughter. I thank you for that. Lord knows she needed a good friend. I'm glad you were there for her."

"You don't have to thank me, Mr. Aarons. I like Leslie. I like her a lot."

Leslie would have smiled at that, but her anxieties distracted her.

"There's the path," Dad said. In front of them, on the right of the dirt road, were the familiar tall grasses and the path that wound through them. Leslie followed her father down the path, with Jamie behind her. They followed the path through a dark, woodsy area that led to a clearing.

When they reached the clearing, Leslie felt her heart start to pound. There, in the distance, was a mighty oak tree overlooking a creek bed.

Closer and closer they came, until they were standing before the oak tree. Dad looked up at it.

"Jesus, it's still there," he gasped.

"What?" Leslie asked.

At first, she thought her father was pointing at an old, long abandoned nest. A bird's nest, or maybe it was a squirrel's nest once. Then she realized what she was looking at – a rope knot tied around one of the tree's branches.

An old, gnarled knot, blackened and decomposing, with about a foot of dark brown, threadbare rope dangling from it.

"Wow," Jamie gasped. "The Enchanted Rope."

You could see where it broke and sent Leslie Burke to her death.

Leslie Aarons felt like throwing up.

For a moment, Dad stared blankly at the remains of the Enchanted Rope. Then he said, "I'm glad it's still there. I always worry that one day, some sick person will cut it down and put it up for auction on Ebay."

"You think someone would actually buy that moldy old knot of rope?" Jamie asked.

"There are a lot of sick people out there," said Dad. "And normal people with morbid curiosity."

He turned his attention to the creek bed. He walked over to the edge. Leslie followed him. Part of her wanted to shut her eyes tight and not look at it, but she had to keep a close eye on her father in case something happened.

The creek bed was maybe four feet deep by twelve feet across. It hadn't rained much lately, so there were only a couple inches of water in the bed. Leslie could see all the rocks on the bottom – mostly small rocks with a few big, flat ones here and there.

There was something else at the bottom of the creek bed.

"Dad, look," Leslie said, and pointed them out.

Two barely visible old boards were sunk into the bottom.

"My bridge," said Dad. "I reckon that's all there is left." He sighed, then a sort of half-smile came to his lips. "I reckon... listen to me. Well, you can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy."

Leslie wanted to laugh, but she just couldn't. She was too scared.

_Can we go back now? _She hoped.

Dad put his foot over the edge, as though he were going to walk down into the creek bed. Leslie grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Dad! What are you doing?!"

"Crossing over. There's only a little bit of water down there."

Leslie turned to Jamie for help. He shrugged. She knew she had no choice but to follow her father.

They sloshed through the creek bed. Leslie cringed at how muddy it was. Dad led them to a less steep incline. They trudged up and out of the creek bed. They had reached the clearing on the other side. Dad kept moving. Finally, he stopped.

"This is it," he said. His eyes were filled with wonder and he smiled warmly. "The Grove of the Pines is back there, and the castle was over... here!"

The King of Terabithia stood in the middle of his kingdom, surveying the land. A breeze blew through his thinning, straw-colored hair. He closed his eyes and smiled again. After a minute of silent reflection, he took a deep, drawing breath, opened his eyes and sighed. He looked older than his age. Older and tired.

And haunted.

The King sat down where his castle once stood.

"Thirty years," Dad lamented. "I can't believe she's been gone _thirty years._"

Leslie felt Jamie's hand take hold of hers. They sat down on the grass with Dad.

"Sometimes it all feels like a dream," he continued. "Sometimes it feels like it happened yesterday. After I lost her in life, I feared that I would lose her in memory – that she would fade away in my mind, and all I'd remember is that once, I had a friend named Leslie Burke who died in an accident. I'd forget how much she meant to me. I'd forget the details – all the little things about her. That I feared most of all. But it never happened. I could never, ever forget her."

"You still miss her, don't you, Dad?"

"I never stopped missing her. She made me what I am today."

"What was she _really_ like?" Jamie asked.

Dad smiled. "She was cute and funny and kind and bright... lord, she was the brightest girl I ever met. And she had a fantastic imagination. I idolized her. My greatest fear was that someday, Leslie Burke would meet someone as bright and wonderful as she was, and she wouldn't want anything more to do with a poor, dumb 'ol farm boy like me. The prospect of losing her was more than I could bear. I was even jealous of her relationship with her parents. I wonder if she ever knew just how much she meant to me. I never really told her. And that's something I'll always regret. I regret it even more than not being there when she needed me the most."

"Dad, you know the accident wasn't your fault."

"I know. That old rope could have snapped at any time. It could have been me who was killed. And for a long time, I wished like hell it _had_ been me."

"Don't say that!" Leslie cried. "You know I hate it when you talk like that!"

"I'm sorry, honey. I was just being honest. When she died... it was like... like someone reached in and tore out a piece of my soul. I don't know how I got through it. There was no counselor at school, my parents couldn't afford to send me to one... if it hadn't been for my little sisters, I might not be here today. I don't know how they did it, but May Belle and Joyce got me through it somehow. It must have been real hard on them."

"Aunt May Belle told me about your nightmares."

"Sometimes, I'd dream that I was out here, looking for Leslie. The sky was dark, the creek was swollen with raging water, the wind was blowing rain into my face... and she was screaming for me, begging me to help her, but I just... I couldn't find her."

"Poor Dad."

"The nightmares went away eventually. The depression took longer."

"Aunt May Belle told me about that, too."

"When I was twelve, I started coming here alone, just to escape. It was always peaceful here. It may sound silly, but... sometimes I'd talk to her. I thought maybe she could hear me from... wherever she was. Then one night, I had another dream. But it wasn't a nightmare. I found myself laying down in the castle next to Leslie. She was about to tell me a story. She looked... beautiful... ethereal... lit up like a Christmas tree. She laughed and said, 'Jess Aarons, what are you looking at?' All I could say was, 'I thought you were gone forever.' She said, 'Aw Jess, you know I'll always be here with you.' Then she held my hands in hers, and with this really intense look in her eyes, she said, _'_I'll _always _behere.' And then she smiled like I'd never seen her smile before. I threw my arms around her and hugged her as tight as I could. There was no way I'd ever let her go. And then... and then, I woke up."

"Wow," Leslie gasped. She sniffled and dabbed at the tears in her eyes. Jamie was choked up, too. He regained his composure and asked, "How come you never mentioned any of that in _Bridge To Terabithia_?"

"The one criticism of my book that I really agreed with was that it ended too quickly. I should have put in more details about the grieving process. Death and grief are tricky subjects for a children's book, though. My editor advised me not to go into too much detail about my grief – just enough to make the reader understand what it was like to lose Leslie. Some readers didn't understand how I could get over it so quickly."

"I kind of wondered that myself. Can I ask you another question about the book?"

"Sure, Jamie. Shoot."

"In the part where you go the Burkes' house to pay respects, Bill Burke says that Leslie once told him that if it weren't for you, she... did he mean what I think he meant? Did Leslie tell him that if she hadn't met you, she would have... killed herself?"

Dad took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "When Bill told me that, I was so out of my mind with shock and grief that I didn't even process it at the time – but I remembered him saying that. After the Burkes moved away, I asked myself that very question. Leslie always seemed so happy, especially when we were in Terabithia. I could never imagine her even _thinking_ about suicide. If she did say that – and that's a very big _if_ – I don't think she meant it. Sometimes we say things that we don't really mean. Someone gets on your nerves and you say, 'I'm gonna kill that guy!' But of course, you don't. Leslie Burke _was_ a troubled girl, though. I didn't know it at the time, but she was. I didn't know it until I got a letter from the Burkes that Christmas."

"I've asked you about that letter before, Dad, and you always tell me you're too busy to get it out for me," Leslie complained. "Why?"

"It's very personal. It means a lot to me. But I should have let you read it. And I promise I will when we get home. I'll tell you about it now. I might as well. You know that new book I was working on before... all this started? It's a follow-up to _Bridge To Terabithia._ It picks up where that book left off. And the letter is mentioned in it."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"So, what's the book about?" Jamie asked. "How you... got over it?"

"I never got over it, Jamie. You don't get over something like that. You just try your best to move on. Buddha teaches us that to find peace, we shouldn't mourn the past or worry about the future, but live in the present, wisely and earnestly. Of course, that's easier said than done. The book is about what I learned from Leslie Burke and how it helped me move on."

"What about the letter?" Leslie asked.

"Well, after the Burkes moved away, I didn't think I'd ever hear from them again. But around Christmastime – during the first week of December – I got a letter from them. Actually it was one of those manila envelopes. Inside it was a letter... and a present: pictures of Leslie, me, and the Burkes. I had completely forgotten about them. One day, when I was over at the Burkes' helping fix up the old Perkins place, we took a break, and Bill brought out his new camera to show us. He was a writer by profession, but his hobby was photography. He had his own little darkroom and everything. He had just gotten this new camera outfit. He got it on sale for three hundred dollars, which was a fortune back then. It was a real fancy 35 millimeter camera with electronic flash cube, a zoom lens, lens filters, a cleaning kit, and a carrying case. He offered to let me take a picture with it, but I wouldn't even touch something that expensive. What if I broke it? Lord, I couldn't imagine having to tell my parents that I broke a three hundred dollar camera! So, Bill took pictures of Leslie and me, together and separately. Then, Leslie took a picture of me and one of her parents. Finally, Bill brought out his tripod, set the timer, and took a picture of all of us together. There were more pictures left on the film roll, so he waited until they were all used up before he developed the whole thing. I never saw the pictures until the Burkes sent them to me with that letter. He'd made extra prints from the negatives for me."

"I've seen them," Leslie said to Jamie. "Dad scanned all the pictures long ago. The picture of him and Leslie Burke together is on his desktop. They look so cute!"

"I love all the pictures," Dad said.

"We saw your class picture," said Jamie. "Your mother still has it, and Leslie Burke's in it, too."

"I know."

"What about the letter, Dad?"

"The Burkes thanked me again for being such a wonderful friend to their daughter. They said they knew how hard it must be for me - that first Christmas without her. It was hard for them, too. Very hard. Now that I'm a parent myself, I can imagine just how hard it must have been for them to lose their child. And yet, they wanted to comfort _me._ They told me some things about Leslie that I never knew. Jamie, do you remember the part in _Bridge To Terabithia_ where Leslie and I are on the school bus, talking about her old school in Arlington?"

Jamie nodded yes.

"I said I bet she had lots of friends in Arlington, and that it must have been hard for her to leave them behind. She agreed. It _was_ hard to leave her friends. But the truth was that... she didn't have any friends in Arlington to leave. Not that she hadn't tried to make friends – lord, how she tried – but... it was like she was singing her own special song and nobody could understand the lyrics. She was so lonely. She became very quiet and withdrawn. Sometimes, her parents had to remind her to eat. She was exhibiting all the classic signs of depression. The school principal in Arlington wanted the Burkes to get Leslie into therapy and put her on antidepressants. Bill and Judy were furious. There was no way they'd dope her up. So they moved here to Lark Creek, hoping that a quiet life in the country would do Leslie a world of good. A new home, a fresh start, and another chance for her to make friends. And then she comes here and gets laughed at and sneered at on her first day of school. No wonder she cried her eyes out in the girls' bathroom that day."

"But then _you_ became her friend."

"Yep. In their letter, the Burkes said that I brought Leslie a lifetime of happiness, and they'd never forget it. I meant the world to her. It made me feel good that I was able to repay her some for all she did for me. Some, but not nearly enough. It also made me sad – and angry. If a poor, dumb 'ol farm boy could see what a brilliant and beautiful person Leslie Burke was, why couldn't anyone else? She should have had an army of friends, not just one."

"You loved her, didn't you?"

"Yes, Jamie. I did. I used to think that my crush on my music teacher Miss Edmunds was true love. But I didn't know what true love was until Leslie Burke came into my life. I just wish I'd had the chance to tell her that I loved her. Here I am, Jess Aarons, best selling writer – a guy who makes his living with words - but when I needed them the most, I just didn't have them. So I did things instead. I _did_ everything I could to _show_ her how I felt. You should always do things to _show_ someone that you love them, but you have to _tell_ them, too. And believe me, those three little words mean a lot. The most important things in any relationship are love and communication. If you stop talking, you start growing apart, and before you know it, it's too late to come back together. Your love is gone for good."

"Is that what happened to you and Mom?" Leslie asked.

"Yes. But we found our way back. That seminar made us do what we hadn't done in... far too long: talk. And not just talk – we had to dig down deep and confront each other with our barest, most honest feelings. And deep down, we found that we still loved each other. It wasn't too late for us."

Leslie felt her anxieties evaporate. For the first time, she wasn't afraid to be in Terabithia.

"So, Mr. Aarons," Jamie asked. "What's the title of your new book?"

"Well, the original title was going to be _Leslie's Gift, _but I think I've come up with a much better one: _The Legacy Of Terabithia._"

"Cool!" said Jamie. "I like it!"

"Me too, Dad!" Leslie agreed.

"I thought you would," Dad said, and winked at her. Then he looked at his watch. "Lord, look at the time! I better get you kids back home!"


	16. Chapter 16

THE LEGACY OF TERABITHIA

by

Wordsmith

Chapter 16: The Legacy Of Terabithia

As they walked down the old dirt road on the way back to her grandparents' house, Leslie asked, "So Dad... how did you and Mom... stop talking in the first place?"

"Well, it didn't happen overnight. We were both busy with our careers, and we weren't paying enough attention to each other. I was working on my new book, your mother was working a lot of extra hours, trying to keep her real estate business going. She's been under a lot of pressure. The housing market is in pretty bad shape and it's going to get a lot worse. People just aren't buying homes anymore."

"Uncle Hank said the whole economy is going to get a lot worse than it is already. He didn't say it to _me_; Aunt Joyce told me."

"He's right. How is Hank? You see much of him these past two weeks?"

"I only saw him once. He seemed okay. Aunt Joyce took me, Matt, and Cody to the parade. Uncle Hank didn't go."

"I hear your cousin Matt is sporting some new earrings. Oh, I wish I could have seen the look on Hank's face when he saw _that,_" Dad laughed. "If I had ever come home with earrings... ohhh, lord!"

"So Mom was upset about her business?"

"Well, you know it wasn't just _her_ business – it was her mother's. Your grandma Evelyn founded the agency in her own home. Her office was just a desk in the living room. But she worked hard and sold a lot of properties. Soon, she had her own office building. That's how E.L. Thomas Realty came to be. You know, your grandma was a real pioneer – not many women owned their own real estate agencies back then.

When your mom was a little girl, she'd go with Evelyn to check out the newest properties and for all the open house showings. She loved to go exploring through the houses, and she'd help your grandma clean them up and do small repairs. When people move out of their old house, they don't always leave it immaculate and ready for sale. Your grandma was real smart about things like that, and your mother loved to help her get the houses ready for showing. After she graduated college and got her realtor's license, she went to work with Evelyn. Your grandma changed the name of the business to Thomas & Thomas Realty."

"But she's been retired for a while now. If business is so bad, why doesn't Mom just quit? You make plenty of money for us."

"It's not about money. Your mother can't bear to see a business that her mother founded and worked so hard to build fall apart – even if it's through no fault of her own. She feels like she's letting her mother down."

"But didn't Grandma Evelyn tell her to stop running herself ragged?"

"Yeah, but you know your mom. She doesn't give up easily. I'm sure glad she didn't give up on me."

"I'm glad, too," said Leslie.

"Hey, Jamie," Dad said. "You've been pretty quiet. Everything okay?"

"Sure. I didn't want to interrupt. I kind of wondered if you realized you were talking about private stuff in front of me."

"Jamie, you've been very good to my daughter during a very difficult time in her life. As far as I'm concerned, you're family."

Jamie looked genuinely touched. "Thanks, Mr. Aarons."

"I wish you'd call me Jess. Mr. Aarons is my father's name," Dad said, and gave him a wink.

"I thought it was wonderful of the Burkes to send you those pictures – and to give you Leslie's paint set and all of her books."

"It sure was, Jamie. You know, I used up the paints, but I still have all her books."

"Really?"

"It's true," Leslie said. They're in a bookcase in Dad's office at home."

"Once, I thought about donating them to Goodwill, but I just couldn't give them up. I felt like I'd be losing her all over again."

"What kind of books did she have besides The Chronicles Of Narnia?" Jamie asked.

"Oh, all kinds of books. A collection of Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales, a book of Brothers Grimm fairy tales, some Judy Blume novels, Harriet The Spy. Lots of great children's books. She also loved the classics – Dickens, Jane Austen. She had Moby Dick, The Three Musketeers, even Bram Stoker's Dracula and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein! And she had non-fiction books about science, animals, trees and plants, dinosaurs, outer space, history, lots of different subjects. She also had poetry books. She loved poetry. I didn't put it in Bridge To Terabithia, but Leslie used to read me poetry sometimes, when we were alone in the castle. At first, I thought poetry was silly, but then I really got to love it. It was like painting with words. Leslie didn't know it at the time, but she was helping prepare me for college. Before I met her, I wasn't much of a reader. She opened my eyes and my mind... and my heart... to a lot of things I never knew existed."

"How did all that reading prepare you for college, Dad? You studied graphic design. You were a commercial artist before you became a writer."

"Yes, but the degree program required me to take several analytical reading and writing courses. English 101, 102, and 103. I met your mother in English 102. She was in my class. We sat next to each other, but we really didn't get to know each other until one day in the library. I was working on a paper about Petrarch's sonnets. Your mom asked me for help. Poetry wasn't her cup of tea, and she had chosen some of Shakespeare's sonnets for her paper. I guess she thought I was an expert because I was immersed in this one particular poem. Petrarch's Sonnet 140 – Soleasi Nel Mio Cor. It reminded me of Leslie Burke, and how I felt after I lost her:

_She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine,  
A noble lady in a humble home,  
And now her time for heavenly bliss has come,  
'Tis I am mortal proved, and she divine.  
The soul that all its blessings must resign,  
And love whose light no more on earth finds room,  
Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom,  
Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine;  
They weep within my heart; and ears are deaf  
Save mine alone, and I am crushed with care,  
And naught remains to me save mournful breath.  
Assuredly but dust and shade we are,  
Assuredly desire is blind and brief,  
Assuredly its hope but ends in death._

Petrarch was one of the great Romantic poets and a major figure in the Italian Renaissance. His real name was Francesco Petrarca. He was a priest, a scholar, a poet, and an essayist. He was the founder of the humanist movement in the Renaissance. When he was 24 – after he had left the priesthood – he fell in love with a beautiful young woman named Laura. He had seen her in church and it was love at first sight. Although she was a noblewoman, she was also a sweet and humble girl. That's what really endeared her to Petrarch. Unfortunately, Laura was married to a Count. She couldn't return his affection. So, Petrarch wrote over three hundred poems – sonnets – secretly professing his love for her."

"I remember that poem – Sonnet 140," said Leslie.

"You do?"

"You used to read me poetry when I was little."

"Oh yeah... I did."

"I miss that."

Dad sighed. "So do I, honey."

"So... you and Mom were just too busy for each other?"

"There's no such thing as being too busy for someone you love. We could have... we _should_ have made more time for each other. We took each other for granted. Which led to resentment and hurt feelings, and then we... just stopped talking to each other and started growing apart. Fortunately for us, it wasn't too late to find our way back. Like I said, that retreat saved our marriage. I think the most important thing I learned was never keep your feelings all bottled up. They'll just rot you out from the inside. If you really love someone, you should never be afraid to share your feelings with them. And always be honest – don't just tell 'em what you think they want to hear."

"Well, here we are," said Jamie. They had reached the end of the old dirt road. Leslie could see the side of her grandparents' house up ahead. "I have to get home for dinner before my mom freaks out. I'll see you tomorrow, Leslie. Mr... uh, Jess... it was great meeting you."

Jamie held out his hand and Dad shook it. "Pleasure's all mine, Jamie. I hope I see you again before we head back to Washington."

"Have fun on your second honeymoon."

"Oh, we will!"

Jamie took off running, then turned around and waved goodbye.

"Bye, Leslie!" he called out.

"Bye!"

Leslie waved back and watched him run until he was out of sight.

"He's a nice kid. I like him," said Dad.

"Me too."

Dad put his arm around her and held her close. She rested her head on his chest.

"I'm glad you found a good friend. I know how hard it is sometimes, making friends. Before Leslie Burke came into my life, I had no friends. I guess I didn't like the kids at school too much. I was pretty angry back then. Angry at a lot of things – and a lot of people."

Leslie felt a cauldron of emotions simmering inside her. She wanted to tell her father how much she hated Capital Academy and all the snooty kids that went there. She was sick of it all and wanted to tell Dad so... but she couldn't. She didn't want to spoil his second honeymoon with Mom. Besides, there would be plenty of time to tell him later. To tell both her parents how she felt.

"I missed you, Dad. And Mom, too."

"We missed you too, honey. You know, we thought about you a lot when we were away. We worked hard at the retreat not just for us, but for you, too. We felt we owed it to you."

"I hope you're not just staying together for _my_ sake. That can create a very unhealthy atmosphere and lead to the dysfunction of the family dynamic."

Dad laughed. "First of all, no, we're not just staying together for your sake. We still love each other very much. And we know how bad it is for miserable couples to stay together just for the sake of the kids. Secondly, will you stop watching Dr. Phil?"

Leslie giggled. "Okay, Dad."

When they got to the front door, Dad said, "Let's wipe our feet real good. Your grandma will be mad as flies in a fruit jar if we track mud into the living room."

Grandma and Grandpa invited Mom and Dad to stay for dinner, but they said no. They had to get home and start packing. Leslie said goodbye to them, hugging them both real tight. She thought her mother was going to cry, but she didn't. If she had, it would have been tears of happiness.

That night, Leslie couldn't sleep. Of course, she was relieved that her parents weren't going to divorce. For the first time, she was looking forward to going back home to Washington. She missed her room and her bed and her computer. She missed writing.

It had been nice, staying with her grandparents. It turned out better than she ever expected. She would miss them. But she would miss Jamie even more. What would she do without him? She'd spend the rest of the summer alone, then go back to that stupid school where she had no friends and kept to herself.

And what would Jamie do without her? Would he... _could_ he just... forget about her? No. Had Dad forgotten about Leslie Burke? Of course not. But he moved on. Eventually, he moved on. Just as Leslie and Jamie would both move on after she left. But she didn't _want_ to move on.

This wasn't an unexpected horrible accident; from the day she met Jamie, Leslie _knew_ that she'd have to leave him when her parents got back from their retreat. Thank god they decided to go off for a second honeymoon – now she had one more week to spend with Jamie before she left him.

But Leslie didn't _want_ to leave him.

And as the days passed, she rarely left his side. If they weren't out swimming at the Enchanted Cove, they were at Jamie's house or at her grandparents' house. Leslie thought about asking her grandparents if she and Jamie could have a sleepover, either at their house or at Jamie's, but she knew they'd never say yes. They were too old fashioned for boy-girl sleepovers.

It didn't matter anyway, because there was another thought on Leslie's mind, something more important than the prospect of a sleepover with Jamie. She wanted... no... she _needed_ to tell him that she loved him. And she had to do it soon, because time was running out. The night her parents left for their second honeymoon, Leslie promised herself that she would tell Jamie how she felt, but every time she tried, she just couldn't find the words. Now she knew how her father felt. And she didn't want to share in his lifetime of regret.

Why the words wouldn't come to her, Leslie didn't know. It's not like she had trouble talking to Jamie about her feelings. She was able to confide in him about her parents' problems and her own fears. She had even told him that he was the best friend she ever had. So why couldn't she tell him that she loved him? _I'm going to tell him tomorrow,_ Leslie vowed. Then she realized that tomorrow was Sunday, and she wouldn't be able to see him.

It was a beautiful Sunday, though. The blue sky blazed in the sunlight. It reminded Leslie of Jamie's eyes when they lit up. The weather was warm, but not humid. It was a perfect summer day. _Oh, if only I could see Jamie,_ Leslie thought. Well, at least she could call him. She couldn't tell him on the phone that she loved him, but it would be nice to talk.

Leslie waited until just before lunch to call Jamie. She knew he'd back from church by then.

"Hello?" Mrs. Byrne asked.

"Hi, this is Leslie. Can I speak to Jamie?"

"Oh! Leslie! Hi! Uh, I'm sorry, but Jamie's not here. He went out with his Uncle Steve."

"He did? Where?"

"Uh... I'm not sure, but he should be back in a few hours. Can I take a message?"

"No thanks. I'll call back later."

"Okay, dear. Bye-bye."

"Bye."

Leslie hung up the phone. That was odd. They let Jamie go out on a Sunday – a _family day_ as they called it – and they didn't even know where he was going? Well, he was with his uncle, and his uncle _was_ family, but it still didn't make sense. Surely, they would want to know where Jamie's uncle was taking him... or maybe they cared even less about Jamie than he wanted to admit. Leslie felt sad for him.

The doorbell rang. Leslie went into the living room just as Grandma answered the door. It was Aunt May Belle.

"May Belle! Come in honey – you're just in time for lunch."

Aunt May Belle came in. She wore a yellow t-shirt, white shorts, and flip-flops on her feet. "I can't stay, Momma. I thought Leslie might like to come over to my house for a little get-together we're having. It's just a summer party. She'll have some barbecue, go swimming, play with her cousins."

"Well, I reckon it's all right with us if Leslie wants to go. Do you, honey?"

"Yes!" Leslie cried. "Can I?"

"Sure, honey."

"Thanks, Grandma. Thank you too, Aunt May Belle."

"You're more than welcome, sweetie."

"Give me a minute to put on my bathing suit."

"Sure, go ahead."

Leslie was already showered and dressed; all she had to do was take off her clothes, put on her suit, and her clothes back on over it. She ran to her room. She changed fast and grabbed a towel from the linen closet before joining her grandparents and Aunt May Belle in the living room.

"I'm ready!"

Leslie didn't say much more than that. On the ride over to Aunt May Belle's house, Leslie stared out the window, lost in thought. She wondered where Jamie was and what he was doing. She tried to think of a way to tell him that she loved him. Finally, Aunt May Belle broke the silence.

"You okay, honey? You haven't said a word since we left."

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Jamie. I was... I called him before you came over, but he wasn't home. It's weird because his mom told me that he went out with his Uncle Steve. Usually, Jamie's parents don't let him go out on Sundays... after church, I mean."

"Oh. Well, I wouldn't worry none about it."

"Yeah, I'll call him again when I get home. He should be back by then."

When they arrived at Aunt May Belle's house, Leslie saw that there was one car parked in the driveway and four cars in front of the house – two parallel parked to the left of the driveway, and two to the right. Fortunately, there was still room for the minivan in the wide driveway. After she parked, Aunt May Belle said, "Why don't you go round to the backyard for a swim before lunch?"

"Okay," Leslie said, smiling. She slung her towel over her shoulder, got out of the minivan and started running. She ran around to the back of the house. There, in the spacious backyard, a few folding tables, each with a red checkered tablecloth, had been set up. The tables were set with silverware, but no plates. She saw the gas grill; on the stand next to it was a tall stack of paper plates and a tall stack of napkins. On the other side of the grill was a huge cooler. Cans of soda and beer floated in a sea of ice and water.

The sounds of splashing and laughter caught Leslie's ear. She turned her attention to the pool. That's when she saw it. It stood out in the spacious backyard near the pool. It was one of those big outdoor canopies – a white tarp atop eight metal poles. It had to be nine or ten feet tall. What was under the canopy... Leslie could hardly believe it! Two electric guitars and one bass guitar were placed on guitar stands. In front of them were three microphone stands. Behind the guitars was a drum kit. On the bass drum was a large logo that read _Chump Change_ in a bold Courier font. To the right of the drum kit was an electronic keyboard – a synthesizer with two rows of keys.

Three amplifier speakers were strategically placed a few feet in front of the canopy.

_Chump Change..._ Leslie thought. _Where have I heard that name before?_

Then it came to her. _That was the name of -_

"Surprise!" a voice yelled in her ear. Startled, Leslie turned around and stared into the most beautiful pair of blue eyes in the world.

"Jamie!"

Leslie threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He hugged her back, then they let go of each other before anyone could see them.

"Hi!" Jamie said. "I was hoping you'd come to the party."

"But what are you doing here? What about your parents' rule? You know, Sunday is a family day..."

"They made an exception. Though technically, I _am_ with family. Uncle Steve brought me."

"_Chump Change,_" Leslie said, pointing at the bass drum, "That was the name of his old band, right?"

"Yep. He and your Uncle Dave and the guys are going to play after lunch."

"Cool! I never saw Uncle Dave play bass before."

"Here they are now," Jamie said, and pointed at the back door. It opened, and Uncle Dave and Steve Byrne came out. Jamie's uncle wore his trademark black t-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. His long hair was still tied up in a ponytail. Uncle Dave's brownish blond hair was cut short and handsomely styled. They were carrying platters of food – hamburger patties and hot dogs ready for the grill. They put the platters on the grill stand, careful not to knock down the stack of paper plates.

Uncle Dave smiled at Leslie when he saw her. He wore a tie-dyed t-shirt, cutoff shorts, and sandals. She barely recognized him. She didn't expect he'd be wearing one of his crisp 3-piece suits to a summer party, but still... and he was wearing earrings – a little diamond stud in each earlobe.

"Hey, I'm only an accountant on the weekdays," said Uncle Dave. He must have read her mind. "I'm glad you came. We usually have our party on July 4th, but this year, Steve was out of town. We were going to have it in August, but then May Belle told me you were going to be here another week. We moved the party up so you could come."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that. Thanks, Uncle Dave."

"You're more than welcome, honey. You know, I'm real happy about Jess and Sara. I'd have hated to see them split up."

"Me too."

"Jamie, thanks for keeping the party a secret," said Uncle Dave. "We really wanted to surprise Leslie."

"So did I, and there's one more surprise left. She'll find out later when you guys start playing."

"Oh, I get it," said Jamie's uncle.

Leslie looked at Jamie. "What?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."

The back door opened again, and two men that Leslie didn't know came out. One of them was petit with a long mane of fiery red hair. He carried a big wooden bowl of salad. The other man was taller, with short, salt-and-pepper hair that was more pepper than salt. He carried bags of hamburger buns and hot dog rolls. The red-haired man put the salad bowl on one of the tables. The taller man put the bags of rolls on the crowded grill stand.

"Thanks, bros!" Uncle Dave said to them. Then to Leslie, "this is the rest of the band. This guy here -" he pointed to the short one - "is Sean Downey. He plays rhythm guitar and keyboards. And this is our drummer, Kel Kelsey." He pointed to the taller man. "His real first name is John, but everyone calls him by his childhood nickname, Kel."

"Just like Ozzy Osbourne," said Kel, laughing. "His real first name is John, too."

"Guys, this is my niece, Leslie Aarons. She's Jess's daughter."

"No kidding!" said Kel.

"Cool!" said Sean.

"Did you guys know my dad?"

"Sure, we all did," said Kel. "When we started out, May Belle brought him along a few times to our rehearsals and gigs. She and Steve were best friends since they were kids, so Jess knew him pretty well. But she fell in love with _Dave_ after he joined the band, so Jess started tagging along with her whenever she came to see us. I don't think he trusted ol' Dave with his little sister. But since he became an accountant..."

"Very funny," said Uncle Dave.

"Seriously though," Kel added, "your dad was a pretty cool guy."

"Yeah," said Sean Downey. "He'd bring a sketchbook with him wherever he went, and he'd show us his drawings. I thought he'd end up being a comic book artist. But he became a graphic designer instead. That was before he started doing children's books."

"So, what kind of music do you play?" Leslie asked. "Metal?"

"More like hard rock," said Steve Byrne. "We started out as a cover band, playing old Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Queen, and Rush tunes, along with some Kiss, Pink Floyd, and Steely Dan. Real old school. Then we started writing our own songs."

"You mean _you_ started writing _your _own songs," said Kel.

"We contributed to the songwriting, but _you_ really wrote the songs," Sean agreed.

"Most of the songs were written before _I_ joined the band," said Uncle Dave. "And they were good – real good – and my old band was going nowhere. That's why I joined Chump Change in the first place."

"I still can't believe you're an accountant, man," Sean said, and playfully nudged him with an elbow.

"They always razz me because I'm the only one without a career in music," Uncle Dave explained to Leslie. "Steve's a music teacher, Sean fixes guitars and gives guitar lessons at a music store, and when Kel's not working as a session or backing drummer, he's running the record store he owns with his brother."

The back door opened again. This time, Aunt May Belle and Aunt Joyce came out,

"Hi, Aunt Joyce!"

"Hi, Leslie. I hoped I'd see you here. Matt and Cody are in the pool."

"Where's Uncle Hank?"

"He's back home, watching the ballgame. He didn't feel like coming."

"Hank doesn't like us much," Steve explained. "I'm afraid it's my fault. A couple years ago, he came to the party, and while we were playing the old Black Sabbath song _War Pigs,_ I changed the line _On their knees, the war pigs crawling _to _On their knees, Bush and Cheney crawling._ Hank got angry and left in a huff. He didn't like that."

"Ho-ho!" laughed Uncle Dave. "He didn't like that one bit!"

Aunt Joyce sighed and shook her head.

"Dave..." Aunt May Belle scolded.

"Sorry, Joyce."

"Oh, it's all right. Hey, Leslie, Jamie, why don't you go for a swim now – lunch will be on soon, and then the band's going to play."

"Okay," they said, and took off for the pool. It was pretty crowded, with all of Leslie's cousins splashing around. Jamie was wearing swim trunks, so all he had to do was take off his shirt and sneakers. Leslie left her clothes next to his on a lounge chair. Then they climbed up the ladder to the small deck and dove into the pool.

Leslie's cousins all told her they were glad that her parents weren't going to divorce. They asked if she was looking forward to going home to Washington.

"Are you gonna miss your boyfriend?" Abbie asked.

"Cut it out, Abbie," said Rachel.

"You're just jealous cause Leslie and I have boyfriends and you don't."

"And what boyfriend do you have?"

Abbie grabbed hold of Cody, who was treading water nearby. She clamped her little arms around him and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Him!"

"Yuck!" Cody grimaced.

"Abbie, you can't have Cody for a boyfriend."

"Why not?"

"Because he's your cousin," Keith interjected. "You'll have babies with two heads."

Rachel laughed. Abbie stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry.

"All right," Keith said. "Who's up for some volleyball?"

"I'll get it," said Matt. He climbed up the ladder and grabbed the ball, which had been left on the deck. They formed two teams of four and batted the volleyball back and forth in a volley across the pool.

The heavenly scent of grilled hamburgers and hot dogs wafted over to the pool area. Just as Leslie sniffed at it, Aunt May Belle came over and told them it was time for lunch.

Leslie and Jamie sat at the same table as Aunt May Belle, Uncle Dave, Steve Byrne, and the rest of the band.

"So, Mr. Byrne, you started Chump Change when you were sixteen?"

"Yep. Dave joined the band about a year later. We started playing gigs in high school, then during college, we played clubs in Virginia and DC at night and on the weekends. We recorded some demo tapes and sold copies of them at our shows, but we never did get a record deal. You know, it takes more than just talent to get signed."

"Yeah," Uncle Dave agreed. "How else do you explain Britney Spears?"

Everyone laughed.

"Hey, Steve," said Sean Downey, "remember the _Great Grape Ape_?"

"The old cartoon character?" Leslie asked.

"No," said Steve. "The _Great Grape Ape_ was this beat up old purple van we used to drive around in. All four of us with our instruments – including Kel's drum kit – and our amplifiers and mike stands, packed in like sardines on the way to our gigs. That old van backfired louder than a shotgun blast, it had a muffler in name only, and a smell we could never get rid of; kind of a cross between sour milk and old sweat."

"Ewwww," Leslie groaned.

"I still can't believe it got us to all our gigs," said Sean.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "It stunk, it roared, it guzzled gas like a wino on muscatel, but it got us where we had to go. You know I only paid two hundred dollars for that monster?"

"I bet you guys had a lot of wild times," said Jamie.

"Well," said his Uncle Steve, smirking, "we did inhale..."

"We never _exhaled_," quipped Uncle Dave. He and the rest of the band roared with laughter, as did Leslie and Jamie.

"Oh, that's lovely, Dave," Aunt May Belle scolded. "That's a _great_ thing to tell the kids."

"That was a long time ago," Uncle Dave explained. "We've done a lot of growing up since then."

"That's right," Steve added. "And we always took our music seriously. We never played a gig stoned. Drugs will _never_ make you a better musician or composer. In fact, they ruined a lot of the great ones. Remember that, Jamie."

After they finished eating, Uncle Dave got up and said, "Okay... time to start the show!"

"Yay!" All the kids applauded. Uncle Dave and the band led them to a spot on the grass near the canopy – but not too close. "Best seats in the house," he said.

"There are only three speakers," said Leslie. "Will that be enough?"

"More than enough," said Uncle Dave. "If we set up our Marshall stacks, we'd blow out all the windows in the house – and all our neighbors' windows, too."

Uncle Dave took his bass from its stand, Steve and Sean grabbed their guitars, and Kel sat down at his drum kit and took out his sticks.

"Okay, kids – are we ready?" Steve asked.

"Ready!"

"One, two, three, four!"

Steve and Sean started strumming. Sean played rocking chords while Steve played the melody. Uncle Dave's nimble fingers were a blur over the bass strings, and Kel set the beat. Steve walked up to the microphone and started to sing:

_Guess who just got back today?  
Them wild-eyed boys that had been away  
Haven't changed, haven't much to say  
But man, I still think them cats are crazy_

_They were asking if you were around  
How you was, where you could be found  
Told them you were living downtown  
Driving all the old men crazy_

_The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town_

_I said:_

_The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town_

Uncle Dave and Sean sang backup, then Steve began the next verse.

_You know that chick that used to dance a lot  
Every night she'd be on the floor, shaking what she got  
Man, I tell you she was cool, she was red hot  
I mean she was steaming_

_And that time over at Johnny's place  
Well, this chick got up and she slapped Johnny's face  
Man we just fell about the place  
If that chick don't want to know, forget her_

_The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town_

_I said:_

_The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town_

Steve exploded in a killer solo, his fingers moving up and down the fretboard of his guitar, playing a flurry of notes. Then he returned to the main melody and started singing again:

_Spread the word around  
Guess who's back in town  
You spread the word around_

_Friday night they'll be dressed to kill  
Down at Dino's Bar & Grill  
The drink will flow and blood will spill  
And if the boys want to fight, you'd better let 'em_

_That jukebox in the corner blasting out my favorite song  
The nights are getting warmer, it won't be long  
Won't be long till summer comes  
Now that the boys are here again_

_The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town_

Steve played another solo, not as long this time. He sang one more bit before repeating the chorus:

_The boys are back in town again  
Been hangin' down at Dino's  
The boys are back in town again_

_The boys are back in town  
The boys are back in town..._

Steve and Sean's guitars played a volley of melody and rhythm, backed by Uncle Dave's bass riffs and Kel's blistering drums. They ended the song in a flourish. The kids gave them a big round of applause, whistling and hooting. When it died down, Steve said:

"Thank you! Thank you very much! Whenever we get together, we just _have_ to play that song first. Okay, next, we'd like to play one of our original songs. This one was on our first demo tape, _Two Bits A Gander. _It's the first song we ever wrote, too. Leslie, I know you're going to like this one. It's called _Terabithia_. Now, usually Sean plays the keyboard part, but today, we have a special guest keyboardist. Come on up here, Jamie!"

Leslie looked at him dumbfounded. "Surprise!" he said, and got up to join the band. He sat down at Sean's keyboard and turned it on. He started playing, weaving a sad tapestry of chords and notes. Steve played a sad melody of his own on the guitar. Kel did a roll on the cymbals for a whooshing effect. Uncle Dave played a somber bass line that Sean followed with slow, mournful chords. Then Steve began to sing:

_I can see what you saw  
it just took me longer  
I can feel what you felt  
and it makes me stronger_

_I can shine like you shined on me, yeah  
though I can't be brighter  
and when I think about you,  
it makes the load much lighter_

The music changed from mournful to a monster ballad, as Sean's chords grew more and more intense.

_But what's a King without his Queen  
just a boy without a dream  
When my castles fall to dust  
when the magic just won't come_

_Take me back  
Oh, take me back  
to Terabithia_

_You opened my eyes  
You opened my mind  
You set my heart alight  
I was so cold inside_

_My feelings for you grew  
I loved you more than you ever knew  
but when I needed to be heard,  
I just couldn't find the words_

_What's a King without his Queen  
just a boy without a dream  
When my castles fall to dust  
when the magic just won't come_

_Take me back  
Oh, take me back  
to Terabithia_

Steve played a gut wrenching solo, his face contorting in response to the intense melodies he played. After a minute or two, he returned to the main melody and sang the next verse:

_It's too late, it's too late  
Oh how cruel the hand of Fate  
that took you away from me  
we were meant to be_

_You've been gone for so long  
I don't how I got along  
carrying this heavy load  
on this long and winding road_

_What's a King without his Queen  
just a boy without a dream  
When my castles fall to dust  
when the magic just won't come_

_Take me back  
Oh, take me back  
to Terabithia_

_To Terabithia  
to Terabithia  
Terabithia..._

Leslie saw that Jamie was playing both rows of keys on Sean's synthesizer. He held sustained chords on the top row while playing the melody on the bottom. His uncle played another solo, then strummed frantic chords with Sean. They ended the song with with a single power chord struck hard.

Everyone applauded wildly, whistled, and hooted at the band – including a small army of neighbor kids who had gathered around Aunt May Belle and Uncle Dave's yard when they heard the music.

The band played for over an hour, mixing their original songs with covers. When they played Led Zeppelin's _Misty Mountain Hop,_ Leslie thought they might play her favorite, _Stairway To Heaven,_ but they didn't. When they played Steely Dan's _Bodhisattva,_ which Leslie had heard before, (her father had the album it was on) they expanded it to include a long guitar solo by Steve Byrne. The upbeat, jazzy melody slowed down and morphed into slow, wailing blues. At one point, it sounded like Steve's guitar was crying in anguish. From there, his fingers danced up and down the fretboard, playing dazzling clusters of notes in a scale. Then he moved on to hard driving blues progressions before returning to jazz. Steve's solo became a duet where he and Jamie exchanged a volley of jazz riffs – first swinging licks then finally, the familiar upbeat bebop of _Bodhisattva_, with the rest of the band joining in to finish the song.

The other guys had a chance to play solos, too. Uncle Dave played a bone crunching, bluesy bass solo that Kel joined in on to show off the band's rhythm section. Sean Downey played a guitar solo in another song, but it wasn't as long as Steve's had been.

The band ended the show by playing _Rock & Roll All Nite _by Kiss and getting everyone to sing along on the chorus:

_I wanna rock and roll all nite -  
and party every day...._

After the show ended and the applause died down, the band members took their bows, then put away their instruments – except for Jamie, who turned off Sean Downey's synthesizer.

"You guys were so awesome!" Leslie cried.

"Thanks, honey," said Uncle Dave. His face was glistening with sweat, just like Steve, Sean, and Kel. Jamie was sweating too, even though he was only wearing a bathing suit. Sean playfully tousled his hair.

"_You_ are amazing," Sean said to Jamie. "Your uncle was right – you are a prodigy. Steve, you keep after him, and he'll be playing Carnegie Hall before his senior prom."

Uncle Dave went to the cooler and brought back cold beers for himself and the guys. He brought a Coke for Jamie.

"Man," Dave said, "we were really _on_ today, bros." He took a chug of beer. "We didn't miss a beat. We _have_ to play more often."

"I loved that Terabithia song," said Leslie.

"Your dad loved it, too, when we played it for him," said Steve, smiling.

"I can't believe you guys never got a record deal."

"Well, sometimes things have a way of working out in the end. I love teaching music to kids. I've got a wonderful wife and children. I can't complain."

Aunt May Belle came over. "Leslie?"

"Yes?"

"You want to have a swim before I take you back to Grandma and Grandpa's?"

"Sure! Jamie, you coming?"

"Yeah. Uncle Steve, guys, it was great playing with you. Thanks for letting me join in. I'd love to do it again!"

"Anytime, kiddo!" said Steve. "Anytime!"

In the pool, Leslie took time to say goodbye to her cousins. She promised to e-mail them and keep in touch. She'd been apprehensive about seeing them at first, but it felt good to be with family. She wished more than ever that she had brothers or sisters.

Before she left, she reminded Jamie to meet her the next morning. It would be their last swim together at the Enchanted Cove, and Leslie would make their lunch.

That night, while Leslie got ready for bed, the phone rang. She didn't think much about it until Grandma came into her room with the cordless receiver.

"It's your Mom and Daddy," said Grandma.

A chill ran down Leslie's spine. They couldn't be home yet! She hadn't even told Jamie that -

"Well?" asked Grandma, holding out the receiver. Leslie took it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey!" said Mom and Dad. They were talking on speakerphone.

"Hi! Um... did you have fun on your second honeymoon?"

"We sure did!" said Dad.

"This is our last night," said Mom. "Our flight to Dulles leaves at 11:30 tomorrow morning."

"But we'll be exhausted when we get home, and it's over an hour's drive to Lark Creek," Dad explained, "so we won't pick you up until Tuesday morning, say, around ten. Is that okay? We _could_ rush right over if -"

"No, no, you guys rest. I don't mind staying here one more day."

Not to mention the fact that if they came tomorrow, she'd have no time to spend with Jamie – no time to tell him how she felt.

"All right, it's settled then," said Dad. "See you Tuesday, honey."

"Bye, sweetie," said Mom.

"Bye."

Leslie gave the receiver back to Grandma.

Later, as she went to sleep, Leslie knew that tomorrow was the day. She _had_ to tell Jamie that she loved him. She might never see him again, and if she didn't tell him, she'd regret it for the rest of her life, just like her father regretted never telling Leslie Burke how _he_ felt.

As usual, Jamie arrived around 9. Leslie was all ready to go. She wore her bathing suit, a pair of shorts, and her socks and sneakers. In the picnic basket, she'd packed their lunch, a thermos of iced tea, and some of Grandma's cookies for dessert.

On the walk to the Enchanted Cove, Leslie tried to take in all the sights and burn them into her memory – even the cow pasture and the tall silos. She wanted to remember it forever. But she was too distracted by the thoughts bouncing around inside her head.

Leslie wondered what was going on inside Jamie's head. He wasn't his usual self. They held hands as they walked, he smiled at her when she looked at him, but he was quiet as a mouse. He barely said a word since they left her grandparents' house. It suddenly occurred to Leslie that she hadn't given any thought to _his_ feelings about her return to Washington.

She wanted to tell him right then that she loved him, but then he turned left and they walked over the bridge. The sweet, earthy perfume of fresh water and the gentle whooshing of the waterfall intoxicated her senses. The next thing she knew, they were walking down the hill to their little beach.

Leslie set up the picnic blanket, then they stripped down to their bathing suits and ran into the water. The familiar icy blast hit her and drove her out of the creek. Cold as she was, she never felt more alive. She couldn't help laughing. Jamie's head and shoulders popped up from underwater. When he turned around and saw her shivering, he smiled, and without a word, went to warm her up.

Jamie ran his hands up and down Leslie's arms, then drew her into a hug. Even though he'd been swimming in the same cold water, his body felt warm. How she longed for time to stop so she'd never have to let him go. _If only it could be like this forever,_ she thought. She opened her eyes. Jamie opened his.

Leslie saw something in Jamie's eyes. Was it sadness? Longing? Both? She didn't know. All she knew was that after tomorrow, she might never look into those beautiful blue eyes again. Jamie started to speak, then hesitated. He tried again to say something, then hesitated again. Finally, he did speak.

"You warm now?" he asked, smiling. She knew that wasn't what he really wanted to say. She nodded yes. He took her by the hand and led her back into the water. They swam in silence around the Cove, then under the bridge to the other side and around the houses. Leslie saw the other little stretch of beach, and the small piers that were built next to a few of the houses. A rowboat was tied to one of the piers. Inside it was a pair of oars and two life jackets. Part of her wished that she and Jamie could borrow the boat and go rowing around the creek. But she knew that it was wrong to borrow something without asking – even if you planned to bring it back. She didn't want to get herself and Jamie into trouble.

Jamie continued to swim out farther. On the other side of the houses, the creek spread wider and seemed to go on forever. Eventually, Jamie turned around, and Leslie followed him. She was glad he didn't go out too far. She was getting tired. She was also hungry.

Back at their little beach, Leslie unpacked their lunch and they ate.

"Hey," Jamie asked, "is that more of your homemade bread?"

"Sure is," said Leslie. "I baked it a couple days ago. I'm getting pretty good at it. I'm going to surprise my parents when I get home -"

Just saying the words _when I get home_ made Leslie feel sad. But she didn't show it. She wanted this, her last day in Lark Creek, to be the best. She wanted again to tell Jamie that she loved him, but she was hungry, and that was something you can't do on an empty stomach.

After they finished eating, Jamie stretched out on the blanket to rest. Leslie snuggled up next to him. He put his arm around her and held her close. She wanted to tell him again that she loved him, but her mind wandered and she lost herself in the moment. It was like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on a cold winter night. All you want to do is be there, all wrapped up.

Where before Leslie had wished that time would stop, now it seemed to be moving so fast, everything was a blur. Before she knew it, they had another swim, packed up the picnic basket, put their clothes and sneakers back on, and were walking home. Thoughts bounced around inside Leslie's head like corn in the popper.

Soon they were off the main road and in Jamie's neighborhood, then they were on Jamie's street, where they took a detour off the road, down the hill, and into the woods. As they walked down the old dirt road toward her grandparents' house, Leslie grew more and more desperate. _I have to tell him now,_ she kept urging herself.

Then she saw it, and stopped in her tracks. There, off to her right, was a familiar path that led through the tall grass and into a woodsy area where a mighty oak tree overlooked a creek bed. On the other side of the creek bed was a place that, to someone without magic in him, looked like a plain, ordinary forest clearing.

Terabithia. It was like an omen. Leslie felt her heart pound in her chest.

"Leslie? Are you okay?"

"Jamie, I have to tell you something. If I don't, I'll regret it forever. I have to tell you now. But not here. Come on."

She grabbed his hand and led him down the path. When they came to the creek bed, Leslie saw that it was bone dry. It had been hot these past few days, and not a drop of rain had fallen. The mud had been baked to a hard crust. Leslie set aside the picnic basket, then walked down into the creek bed and climbed up to the other side. Jamie followed her.

When they were in the clearing, Leslie took Jamie's hands in hers and stared into his blue eyes.

"Jamie, I-"

"Leslie, I-"

They laughed and smiled at each other.

"I have something to tell you, too," said Jamie. "Ladies first."

"Jamie, when I came here... to Lark Creek, I mean... I thought the world was coming to an end. It was like... my parents were going to divorce, I had no friends, I hadn't seen my grandparents and my other relatives in a long time, there was... nobody. Then one day, a voice calls out to me in the woods... you were _so_ wonderful. The best friend I ever had, the only real friend I ever had, but... more than that. I..."

Leslie let go of Jamie's hands and threw her arms around him.

"I love you, Jamie. I love you _so_ much."

Jamie wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

Overcome with emotion, Leslie felt hot tears well in her eyes and run down her cheeks. She blinked hard trying to clear them away. When she opened her eyes, she saw tears in Jamie's beautiful blue eyes.

"I love you, too," he said. "I love you, too." He held her tight again. "You're the only one who ever cared about me, the only one who... _understands_."

The look on Jamie's face reflected such pain that Leslie couldn't bear it.

"The day we met, I was ready to give up."

"On what?"

"Everything. My music... everything. I had this thing inside me, this... talent... and nobody cared. Not even my own father. Just because I couldn't throw a baseball like my stupid brother. When my uncle tried to help me, it almost cost him his job. I just wanted to live my dream of playing with an orchestra, and all the parents acted like I was some kind of arrogant creep trying to upstage their kids."

"You were really going to quit your music?"

"Yes, I was. I... just didn't care anymore. But then I met you," Jamie said, and smiled warmly. "You made me care again... and not just about music."

He kissed her. She kissed him back. They held each other tighter than ever.

"I love you, Leslie."

"I love you, too."

They held each other for what seemed like forever. Finally, they let go, and Leslie asked, "What are we going to do now?"

"I'll walk you home."

"No, I mean... I'm leaving tomorrow, but... I don't want to leave you."

"I don't want you to go. But you have to. It'll be okay. We can talk on the phone, I'll e-mail you every day... we can chat on the #Terabithia channel or go into a private room."

"It's not the same."

"I know."

"I don't know what I'll do without you."

"I'll miss you like crazy."

"You want to hear something weird, Jamie?"

"What?"

"Remember when we first met, and you wanted to show me Terabithia? I didn't want to go because I thought it was cursed. That's why I didn't want my dad to come back here. And that's why I didn't want _you_ to come here, either."

"It's not cursed. Just because something terrible happened here to Leslie Burke doesn't mean something terrible is going to happen to you, me, or your dad. People get killed in car accidents sometimes, but that doesn't mean everyone stops driving those roads. So don't worry about me. I've only been here alone twice in my life. Besides, I'm like the safest person in the world. I won't even use public bathrooms because of the germs."

Jamie shuddered in disgust.

Leslie burst out laughing.

Jamie laughed, too. He held out his hand.

"Come on, I'll walk you home."

When they got to her grandparents' house, they embraced each other and exchanged a quick kiss.

"Well... I guess that's it. Tomorrow, I leave for Washington. Will you come over and say goodbye?"

"Of course I will. You don't think I'd let you leave without saying goodbye, do you?" Jamie asked, smiling impishly.

"No, I didn't think so," said Leslie. She smiled back at him.

"What time are your parents coming?"

"Around ten."

"Then I'll be here around nine. Fare thee well until the morrow, my lady."

Jamie bowed and kissed her hand like a proper knight.

"Until the morrow, my knight."

Jamie took off running. When he was out of sight, she went inside.

After dinner, Leslie packed her suitcase, save for a nightgown, a change of clothes and underwear, a pair of socks, and her sneakers. When she got ready for bed, she packed the bathing suit, shirt, and shorts she'd worn to the Enchanted Cove.

That night, she crawled into bed, tired after a long, emotional day. She was happy and relieved that she told Jamie she loved him, happier to know that he loved her just as much, sad to be leaving him, but happy to be going home. She missed her parents and her room. She missed writing on her computer.

_When I get home,_ Leslie thought, _I'll write a poem for Jamie and e-mail it to him._

The next morning, after wolfing down her last bowl of Grandma's Southern style oatmeal, Leslie headed straight for the shower. She wanted to be dressed and ready to go as soon as possible, just in case her parents came early.

After she dressed and packed the last of her clothes, she checked to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She had – she'd left her battery-powered toothbrush, her comb, and hairbrush in the bathroom. She gathered them up and packed them in her suitcase. Just as she closed her suitcase and locked the locks, the doorbell rang.

Leslie looked at her watch. It was 8:30AM. _Jamie's early,_ she thought. She ran out of her room, down the hall and into the living room... where her aunts were talking to her grandparents.

"Aunt May Belle? Aunt Joyce? What are you doing here?"

"I think she was expecting someone else," said Aunt May Belle, and winked at her.

"We came to say goodbye," said Aunt Joyce. "And to see our big brother."

"I just made a pot of coffee," said Grandma. Come on in the kitchen."

Leslie sat at the table while her grandparents and aunts drank their coffee. Grandpa put down his cup and lit his pipe.

The doorbell rang again. Leslie ran out of the kitchen to answer it.

"Hi!" Jamie said. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. She made sure they were alone in the living room, then she kissed him. He kissed her back and walked in. Leslie closed the door. When she turned around, Jamie handed her a disc in a paper sleeve.

"It's a going away present," he explained. "A DVD-ROM. I burned it myself."

Leslie took the disc out of its sleeve. _TO LESLIE_ was written above the center hole, and below, LOVE, JAMIE was written.

"Thanks! What's on it?"

"A collection of my favorite albums in MP3. All kinds of great music – rock, jazz, blues, classical. I included the Chump Change demo tapes, plus three complete live shows from back when they were playing clubs. They sound great because they were taped off the band's soundboard. The guys just wanted to hear how they sounded live, but the recordings came out so good that they sold copies of them along with the demo tapes at their shows."

"Awesome!"

"There's a directory called Jamie's Stuff with MP3s of me playing, mostly classical pieces, but there are some rock songs."

"I'll get to hear you sing, too?"

"Yeah," Jamie said, blushing, "but I'm really not that good a singer."

"You're better than you think you are – and I'm not just talking about singing and playing the piano."

Jamie blushed a deeper shade of red. "Aw... anyway, there's also a directory called Software, with some programs you might like, and in the root directory, there's a Word document called Jamie's Information, which has my e-mail address, snail mail address, home phone number, and cell phone number."

"Cell phone? You have your own cell phone?"

"Yeah, Dad switched us to one of those 'family plans' so we all have our own cell phones. I just got mine a few days ago. Now I'll have someone to call."

"Yep. Oh! Let me get a pen and a piece of paper, and I'll write down _my_ information."

Leslie ran into the kitchen, tore off a piece of paper from the writing tablet her grandparents kept by their phone, then snatched a pen from the mouth of the ceramic frog that served as a pen holder. She quickly wrote down her e-mail address, snail mail address, and phone numbers, then put back the pen and ran to give the paper to Jamie.

"Here you go," she said, smiling.

"Thanks," said Jamie. He folded up the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. "So, are you all ready to go? You want me to help you pack?"

"Nope. I'm all packed."

"Well, then there's just one thing left." From his other pocket, Jamie took out a compact digital camera. He looked at Leslie through the viewfinder and said, "Say cheese!"

"Cheese!" she said, and smiled.

He showed Leslie her picture on the camera's viewing screen.

"Cool! I should have brought _my _camera."

The doorbell rang again, startling Leslie. She looked at her watch. It was just after 9:30. She answered the door.

"Dad!"

Leslie's father swept her up in his arms. "There's my girl!"

"Hi, honey!"

"Mom!"

Leslie hugged her mother.

They came in and Dad saw his parents and sisters.

They all exchanged hugs. Dad kissed his mother and sisters. Leslie's aunts looked overjoyed to see their big brother again, especially Aunt Joyce.

"How's Hank?" Dad asked her.

"The same," Aunt Joyce sighed.

"How about I have a little man-to-man talk with him?" asked Grandpa. "I'll set him straight."

"Daddy please..." Aunt Joyce begged. "Leslie's leaving, let's not get into that now."

Grandpa cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Well son," he said to Dad, "we're sure gonna miss Leslie."

"I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

"Of course not!" said Grandma. "She was a pleasure to have around. And I hope you all come up and see us again soon. Don't be a stranger now, Jesse – hear?"

"You know, son," said Grandpa. "You done us both proud. The way you raised Leslie. They way you didn't cut and run when things went bad. Neither of you did. These days, most couples give up quick when the going gets tough. But you two wouldn't give up without a fight. You did right by yourselves and your daughter. I admire you both for that."

"Thanks, Dad."

"It must have been real hard on you two," said Grandma. "I know it was hard on Leslie. Fortunately, she made herself a real good friend. This charming young man here." Grandma tousled Jamie's hair. "He's quite the little gentleman. His mama raised him right."

"And I hear he can play piano like Jerry Lee Lewis," said Grandpa.

"Jamie played with Dave, Steve, and the band at our summer party," said Aunt May Belle. "You should have heard him. Steve wasn't kidding when he said Jamie was a prodigy."

"Oh, I've already heard lots of great things about Jamie," Dad replied.

Jamie blushed three shades of red.

"Mister... uh... Jess... could you do me a favor and take a picture of Leslie and me together?" Jamie asked.

"Sure."

Jamie handed Dad his camera. Then he and Leslie put an arm around each other and smiled. Dad snapped the picture and gave back Jamie's camera.

"Aren't they just adorable?" said Aunt Joyce.

Leslie didn't have time to blush. She asked Jamie to e-mail her a copy of the picture of them together. "Here," she said, "let me take a picture of you now."

"Cheese!" Jamie said. He smiled brightly and his blue eyes sparkled.

Leslie took the picture and said, "Send me a copy of that one, too."

"Jess, honey, why don't you and Sara sit down for a while and have some coffee before you make that long drive home."

"Momma, you read my mind!"

"I'll put my suitcase in the car," said Leslie.

"I'll help," said Jamie.

After her parents followed her grandparents and aunts into the kitchen, Leslie grabbed Jamie's hand and led him to her room. He stuffed his camera into his pocket.

Leslie opened her suitcase, put the DVD-ROM Jamie gave her into a protective compartment in the lid, then closed the suitcase and locked it again.

"First I'll put this away," Leslie said, "then we'll say goodbye."

She went to lift the suitcase but Jamie beat her to it. "Allow _me_ to carry thy burden, my lady."

Leslie laughed. "Very well, good knight."

In the car, Leslie pressed the trunk release button and Jamie hoisted the suitcase up and into the trunk. He moved aside Dad's jumper cables, jack, air compressor, and lantern flashlight so the trunk hatch would still close with addition of the suitcase.

Jamie closed the hatch. "That's it."

When they got back to Leslie's room, she sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for him to join her.

"Well..." she sighed, "I'm going home."

Jamie put his arm around her. "I'll miss you."

"Funny, isn't it? I didn't want to come here in the first place. Now, I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to go. But we both know that you have to."

They hugged each other tight, holding on for dear life.

"I love you, Jamie."

"I love you too, Leslie."

They shared one last, glorious kiss. Jamie's mouth felt so warm and wonderful that she didn't want it to end. But like all good things, it did.

Tears started welling in Leslie's eyes. She fought them hard and won. Her lower lip trembled.

"You know, when we were in Terabithia yesterday, I thought – I _knew_ – we were meant to be together, just like my dad and Leslie Burke."

"And I told you that nothing's gonna happen to me."

"But I'm still going to lose you."

"No you're not."

"But we live so far away..."

"Just over an hour's drive."

"Face it Jamie, we might never see each other again."

"Sure we will."

"But -"

Jamie took Leslie's hands in his. "Listen. You told me not to give up hope on my music. I'm telling you not to give up hope on _us_. Somehow, someway, we'll see each other again, even if it's only at Christmastime. But it won't come to that. We'll be together again, and not just for one day."

"Really?"

"Really," Jamie assured her. He smiled warmly at her. His eyes sparkled like blue diamonds.

"I'm tired from all this, and it's a long drive home. Let's lay down for a while."

They cuddled up next to each other on the bed. Leslie rested her head on Jamie's chest. He held her close to him.

Leslie closed her eyes and lost herself in the sweet silence. _If only it could be like this forever_, she thought.

The knock on the door jolted Leslie out of a thin, dreamless sleep. She and Jamie scrambled to get out of bed as her father walked in.

"You guys taking a nap?"

"No."

"I bet you'll need one when we get home. We're ready to leave now."

"Okay, Dad."

She and Jamie followed him to the living room. Her mother, grandparents, and aunts were waiting. Leslie hugged and kissed her grandparents first.

"Bye, Grandma. Bye, Grandpa. Thanks for letting me stay with you."

"You're more than welcome, honey," said Grandma.

"Anytime, sweetie. You come up and see us again soon, hear?" said Grandpa.

Leslie said goodbye to her aunts. She thanked them again for inviting her to their homes, and for taking her to the Fourth of July parade and fireworks.

"You come up and see us again, too," said Aunt May Belle. "You too, Jess."

"Yeah," said Aunt Joyce. "We miss our big brother. You take good care of him now, Sara."

"I will," said Mom, smiling.

"We'll all see you soon. And Jamie," Dad said, offering him his hand, "Thanks again for being so good to Leslie." They shook hands.

"You don't have to thank me."

"When _The Legacy Of Terabithia_ is published, I'll send you a signed promotional copy. You'll get it way before it hits the stores."

"Cool! Thanks!"

They all walked out to the car. Mom and Dad got in first. Leslie hugged Jamie and said, "Thanks for... everything. Goodbye, Jamie."

"Hey, let's not say _goodbye_ – let's say... see you soon."

"Okay," said Leslie. She felt like crying, but she smiled and said, "See you soon, Jamie."

"See you soon, Leslie."

She didn't want to leave him, but she got in the car and buckled up. As they pulled out of her grandparents' driveway, Leslie looked behind her and saw Jamie and her grandparents and aunts wave goodbye. As they went further down the road, Jamie started running after them. It reminded Leslie of how her father had once run in desperation, hoping in vain that by running, he could keep Leslie Burke alive.

But unlike Dad, who had been stopped by his father and comforted, Jamie stopped on his own, and there would be no one to comfort him. There were tears running down his cheeks, but he was smiling, and he waved goodbye again. She waved back at him until he was out of sight. She turned around and felt her own tears trickle down. She wiped them away before her parents could see.

Leslie calmed down and stared blankly through the back seat passenger window. She could hear her parents talking, but their words seemed muffled and somewhere in the distance.

"Leslie?"

"Huh? What?"

"We're almost halfway home, and you haven't said a word," Dad said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You know, you've still got over a month of summer vacation left before school starts," said Mom.

"Don't remind me. I hate that school."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," said Dad. "Seeing as you've been lacking in the friend department."

"You miss Jamie, don't you, honey?" asked Mom.

"He was all I had. And now I'll never see him again. But at least I can call him and e-mail him. And I'll have pictures of him and us together when he sends them to me."

"I know how you feel, sweetheart," said Dad. "He's your Leslie Burke."

Leslie nodded yes.

"Aw, I can't do it," said Dad. "I wanted it to be a surprise, but I can't keep it from you. When we were talking in the kitchen... well... we're coming back for Thanksgiving. We're having kind of an Aarons family reunion. Your Aunt Brenda and Aunt Ellie and their families are coming up. We're all having Thanksgiving dinner at your Aunt Joyce's house because she's got the most room. Your aunts want to do all the cooking, but Momma insists on helping, and I don't think they'll try to stop her." Dad laughed.

"We're also going to visit at Christmastime," said Mom.

"That's right. I miss my little sisters, and Momma and Dad aren't getting any younger."

Leslie could hardly believe her ears!

"So I'll get to see Jamie again! Only twice, but it's better than nothing. And I'll be able to give him a Christmas present! But what do I get him? Well, I've got time to shop. I wonder if I should tell him... it would be a great surprise, but what if he's out of town when we come up? No, I better tell him."

"Well, you're all excited!" said Dad.

"Thanks for telling me," Leslie said. "Now I have something to look forward to. It'll make getting through another year at that stupid school a little easier." She took a deep breath and let a current of relief rush through her body. "I thought I'd never see Jamie again."

"Why would you think that?" Dad asked.

"Because we live so far away."

"What if I call his parents and invite him to come up and see us in Washington?"

Leslie gasped. Her heart pounded like a hammer striking an anvil. "Would you really do that?"

"Sure. Like Mom said, you've got over a month of summer vacation left. That's plenty of time for you guys to hang out before school starts. After that, maybe he can come up now and then on the weekends. Or you can go down to Lark Creek."

"Yeah! Oh, but... I don't know if his parents would let him."

"Oh, I can be pretty persuasive. Your Mom once said I could charm the habit off a nun."

"Jess!" Mom scolded him playfully. "Don't say things like that in front of Leslie!"

Leslie giggled. "Anyway," she said, "I bet you could charm them. Jamie's mom freaked out when she realized I was your daughter. She said it wasn't often that she had a celebrity in her house."

"Well then, it should be easy to talk her into letting him come up for a visit."

"But... how would he get here? I don't think his parents would want to drive all the way to Washington."

"Maybe we can work something out. Take turns. I could bring him to Washington, he'd stay with us for a few days, and then his parents could pick him up and bring him home. He could even take a bus; the Millsburg bus station's only five minutes away from Lark Creek. They do runs to and from Washington every day. I could pick Jamie up at the Washington Metro. I'm sure we'll be able to work _something_ out."

"Thanks, Dad. Thanks _so_ much."

"Sure, honey."

Leslie could hardly believe it. She would get to see Jamie again – and not just during the holidays, if all went well. A million thoughts ran through her head. She'd have to plan some fun things for them to do. She could take him to see the National Symphony Orchestra – oh, he'd love that! There was so much they could do in Washington, Leslie didn't know where to start. She couldn't wait to get home and go online to look it all up.

"So, honey, are you looking forward to getting back to work on your book?" Mom asked Dad.

"Oh yeah. And my editor is looking forward to receiving the finished manuscript. He thinks _The Legacy Of Terabithia_ is going to be big."

"I bet it will be."

_The Legacy Of Terabithia._ Leslie understood it now. It was never about a forest clearing on the other side of a creek bed in Lark Creek, Virginia. It was about two lost and lonely souls finding each other, growing in love, and coming together as one. Yin and Yang, two opposite halves that made each other whole.

What began many years ago between her father and Leslie Burke and ended in tragedy now lived inside Leslie Aarons and Jamie Byrne. She had worried that their relationship would meet a similar fate, but she knew now that Leslie Burke's death was just a terrible accident, not the hands of Fate weaving the fabric of destiny. Fate didn't bring them together just to tear them apart. And though it cut her father to the fiber of his being, even death couldn't take from him what Leslie Burke had given him in life. Her radiant spirit still lived within him.

Now, Leslie Aarons and Jamie Byrne had _their_ chance to grow in love and become one, a chance Leslie wasn't about to squander. She wanted to keep him with her in body and spirit. She wanted to be with him in magic, in dreams, and in love. She wanted to write the poetry of his symphonies.

That's what it was all about.

That was the legacy of Terabithia.

**The End**

_Author's Notes:_

_Well, as they say, all good things must come to an end. First of all, I'd like to apologize for the end being so long in coming. One of my reviewers told me that she had grown very attached to my Leslie and Jamie. Well, I've grown very attached to them, too. I wanted an ending that would give them a memorable send-off. Which is why this final chapter took so long for me to write, and why it's the longest chapter in the book – over 12,000 words._

_Speaking of my reviewers, I would like to thank all of you who took the time to review my previous chapters and post such kind comments. I look forward to hearing from you all about this one. I'd also like to thank all my friends at the Bridge To Terabithia fan site A. PlaceForUs .Net for their encouragement._

_Most of all, I'd like to thank Katherine Paterson for writing the wonderful book that has touched my heart – and the hearts of millions – for so many years, and continues to touch the hearts of new generations of fans._

_Banzai._

_- Wordsmith_


End file.
